Top Jockey
by Syrinx
Summary: Her Kentucky Derby horse has arrived, but with him comes unwelcome ghosts of Cindy's past. As the big day draws closer, Cindy comes nearer to those that drove her away and to the memories that haunt her. Sequel to The One Who Remembers. Cindy/OC.
1. The One

Top Jockey  
By Syrinx  
Disclaimer: All rights to the Thoroughbred series belong to Joanna Campbell and Harper Collins.  
Summary: Her Kentucky Derby horse has arrived, but with him comes unwelcome ghosts of Cindy's past. As the big day draws closer, Cindy comes nearer to those that drove her away and to the memories that haunt her. Sequel to The One Who Remembers. Cindy/OC.

"The One"

Belmont Park was shrouded over with a thick mist as Cindy McLean drove her expensive black Mercedes through the gates and parked by Lucas Simm's barns. She killed the purring engine and leaned back in the car, stretching and running her hands over the tan leather seats. She had had a long night out on the town, taking her friend Jessica to a club for her twenty-seventh birthday. Cindy had insisted on getting back by midnight, since she had to get up at five the next morning to take a look at Mr. Simm's newest charge.

Cindy pushed open the door and stepped out, smoothing over her jeans with her worn hands, and reached back inside to grab her crop, hard hat, and chaps. She slammed the door closed and locked it, smiling at the gleaming luxury car. It was her newest toy since she had won the Malibu Stakes a few weeks ago.

"Cindy!" Lucas Simm called, walking out of the barn and toward her car. Cindy turned, catching sight of the stocky trainer, his mousy brown hair ruffled by the wind. "Good to see you back at Belmont. I heard about your win in the Malibu. Congrats."

"Thanks," Cindy smiled, walking up and shaking Lucas' hand in greeting. "It was a piece of cake. That colt has a special spark in him."

"Brushed Black is on his way to being a champion in the sprints," Lucas said, nodding his head in agreement. "You think you've got a deal worked out with his trainer?"

"My agent will be the first one he calls, if they don't retire the colt this year," Cindy laughed, walking into the barn and setting down her things on the stool next to Lucas' office.

"You've really risen in the ranks since you first came here," Lucas said, shaking his head. "I remember when you were barely twenty-one when I took you under my wing."

"And what a swan she's become," laughed Micky, the exercise rider for most of Lucas' string. He walked up behind Cindy and flipped her long blond ponytail up, grinning at the young jockey.

"Hey," Cindy said, pushing him. "I don't see you turning into a swan."

"Oh, that was a low blow," Micky groaned, grabbing his stomach as if Cindy had hit him. It was true enough. Cindy arrived at Belmont Park a year after setting out on her own.

That year had been disastrous. Even as the Dubai World Cup winner, she couldn't get rides. Everyone had thought she had won solely because she had ridden Wonder's Champion, the Triple Crown winner.

Depressed and nearly broke, she headed out to New York and became an exercise rider for Lucas. He saw the talent in her and got her riding half of his Belmont string only months later. Soon Cindy wound up winning the Acorn Stakes on Bosta, a long shot in her first grade one stakes. That race catapulted Cindy to the top and she had stayed there.

Cindy smiled at Lucas, who was almost ten years her senior. She owed him so much.

"Well let's get going," Lucas said, walking down the barn aisle. "I want to show you the new colt you'll be riding. Champion material, I'm telling you."

Lucas brought Cindy to a stop in front of a young red chestnut colt. The chestnut was tearing at the hay net, back turned to them both. Lucas clucked to the colt and the young horse turned his head over his shoulder, glancing at them oddly. Cindy laughed.

"He's a beauty!" She exclaimed as the colt abandoned his hay net for a little attention. Cindy ran her hand over the colt's crooked white stripe that ran down his forehead and looked down at his correct legs, each hoof covered in a white sock.

"His pedigree is even better," Lucas added, reaching in and patting the colt's magnificently arched neck. "He's by Red Army and out of Shining."

"What?" Cindy asked, astonished. "You said Shining?"

"That's right," Lucas said. "Townsend Pride filly, half-sister of Ashleigh's Wonder."

"I know," Cindy said excitedly. "Shining was the first racehorse I ever rode."

Lucas rose an eyebrow and chuckled, shaking his head. "You Whitebrook kids. Always so advanced."

Cindy smiled, then got down to business. "Okay. Tell me all about him."

"He's a three-year-old," Lucas said, ticking points off on his fingers. "Born at Whitebrook Farm, he was sold at a yearling auction to Mr. John Dearhart and his wife Maggie. They sent him to a training center to get the basics done with and last week he was sent here after a nonexistent two-year-old season."

"Why no two-year-old season?" Cindy asked, looking in on the finely made colt. She just knew had he run early he probably would've clinched a championship. The two-year-old champion last year didn't look anything like him.

"The Dearharts don't believe in running their horses at two. Each one starts at three, and this one they have Triple Crown hopes for."

"The Triple Crown?" Cindy asked, grinning. She had only been on one Triple Crown prospect, even with all her acclaim. Recently during the summers she went to England to ride in the big races and somehow when it came down to Triple Crown time the trainers overlooked her when she was in the country.

"Exactly," Lucas said, a smile spreading over his face. "Now, you know I trained his sire to a Kentucky Derby victory. Red Army was one of the best colts I had."

"Where are you going to start with this one?" Cindy asked, rubbing the colt's neck.

"With a light gallop," Lucas said, patting Cindy on the back. "Let's get his tack."

Cindy nodded and then turned around, watching Lucas walk eagerly down the aisle. "Hey, Lucas?" She called, letting the colt go back to his stall, munching on his hay. "What's his name?"

Lucas stopped and turned around. "The Dearharts named him Watchmaker."

Cindy raised an eyebrow and looked back in on the colt. "Watchmaker," she murmured under her breath. "I wonder what Samantha would've named you."

Cindy stopped and thought about her sister. Samantha McLean, now Samantha Nelson, had moved to Ireland and stayed there with her husband, Tor, for nearly twelve years. When she finally returned, she had a talent at riding jumpers and shared her husband's passion for the warm bloods. Cindy knew Samantha owned her own farm now with Tor. Not a racing farm, like Samantha previously would've dreamed, but a farm of jumpers and eventers.

Cindy unconsciously smiled, watching the sweet brown eyes of the colt. When Samantha had come back she and Tor stopped in New York and stayed with her for about two weeks. It had been just like old times. She wondered what Samantha would have done with Watchmaker, had she kept the beautiful red colt.

"He's got talent from both his parents," Micky said, walking up beside Cindy and running his hands through his cropped brown hair. "Red Army's looks for sure, and his running style. Hard hitting and explosive. But his temperament and raw speed come from Shining, I think."

"Shining was fast," Cindy said, looking over at the exercise rider. "She beat colts in some prestigious races."

"He's got stamina written all over him," Micky said, laughing to himself. "Honestly, this is the horse Lucas is most excited about. He's got that other Derby prospect at Aqueduct, Well's Station, but this one is going to be his baby."

Cindy nodded. "With looks and bloodlines like his I don't see why he wouldn't be Lucas' favorite."

"Okay, Cin," Lucas called, walking down the aisle with Watchmaker's equipment. "Let's get going."

Cindy sat straight and tall in Watchmaker's saddle, settled on the colt's back. The red chestnut colt snorted and stood firmly on the outside of the track, arching his neck and blowing, pawing at the soft dirt with one white hoof.

The colt's muscles quivered under Cindy. He pricked his ears at the breezing horses and whickered eagerly, shaking his red mane. Cindy felt like she was sitting on top of the world, the colt was so tall. She had ridden many champions in her time, but she was sure none of them held themselves as well as Watchmaker. Even March to Glory, her favorite horse at Whitebrook, wasn't this regal. And Wonder's Champion, the Triple Crown winner several years ago, wasn't this sure of himself just coming onto the track.

"Take him around once at a slow gallop. Take it nice and easy," Lucas said, standing at the rail. "He's a gentleman, so I wouldn't expect any hard handling out there."

Cindy nodded and buckled her hard hat on, then heeled Watchmaker out to the track. The chestnut picked up the trot easily, bouncing eagerly forward, chewing on the bit. Cindy quickly put him into a canter, as if sliding a manual transmission into third gear. The colt bounded forward and Cindy glided over him, not even feeling the rocking motion of the canter.

Watchmaker jerked his head down and up, trying to loosen Cindy's tight grip on the reins. Cindy knew better, and gripped harder, easing the colt into a gallop. Watchmaker lowered his head and strode forward, floating by the railing as he pounded into the far turn, working his way around the huge mile and a half track.

The colt was all business, Cindy was pleased to discover. Watchmaker galloped past nervous two-year-olds, merely flicking an ear at them, and by trouble making colts, rearing and dumping their riders. That sort of thing happened every day at the racetrack, and it had happened to Cindy more times than she could count.

Two horses sped by on the inside of them, their heads down low in a breeze. Watchmaker only huffed and went on at his pace, patiently waiting for Cindy's signal to slow or speed up. Once Cindy got him back to the gap she was awestricken.

"My God, Lucas!" Cindy exclaimed jumped down from the red colt's back and patting his neck. "You've got a real racehorse!"

"He did look good out there," Lucas commented, a smile of pride on his face as he glanced around, seeing other trainers taking an interest in the colt.

"Tell me what you're aiming him toward," Cindy demanded, leading the red colt off the track and stopping him by the older man.

"Well," Lucas crossed his arms and looked the colt over. "I was going to head him to the San Vicente at Santa Anita the first week in February, but we need to get a maiden race in before that."

Cindy nodded eagerly. "I'm waiting."

"Okay," Lucas nodded his head. "I've already got him entered in a mile maiden race two weeks from now at Aqueduct. He's got distance blood so I'm not worried about the mile."

"So, I should be going to Aqueduct in about a week?" Cindy asked, an impish smile crossing her face.

"You know you are, Cindy," Lucas shook his head, laughing. "I'm having you up on Watchmaker this entire year if everything goes well. No going to England this summer. I want you here for the Belmont, if he gets that far. The Triple Crown is what the owners want, and I'm not going to deny them anything."

Dave, one of Lucas' grooms, took Watchmaker's bridle and led the colt back to the barn, where he was due for a rinse and a rub down.

"What are you going to nickname him?" Cindy asked, watching the colt follow Dave to the barn.

"How about Red," Lucas said. "Simple, and I know more than one great horse that was called that."

Cindy nodded her head. Secretariat and Man O' War both were big red chestnuts with the same nickname -- Red. Cindy wanted to include Watchmaker in that category.

"I should call Samantha and tell her the news," Cindy said, looking out at the track. She had no more appointments today, since it was the off season for the track. No races were being held and she already knew who she was riding up at Aqueduct in a few weeks. The horses she usually rode at Belmont had exercise riders to work with them over the winter break.

"I should get back," Cindy replied, glancing at her watch. "I've got to call Rick so he'll book me for that maiden and the San Vicente."

Rick Langley was Cindy's agent, and was one of the best in the country. He handled many important jockeys and got them the best mounts in the most prestigious races. Because of Rick, Cindy had ridden in the Breeders' Cup Sprint last year and won. It was her third Breeder's Cup win. Cindy wanted to start handling her bookings herself, but Rick had helped bring her into the jockey's world, and she owed him for it, as she did Lucas.

"Okay, kid," Lucas said, walking Cindy out to her car, which he eyed speculatively. "A new one?" He asked, walking up and looking at it from all sides, huddling in his coat as the cold January wind picked up.

"Yeah," Cindy said, smiling as she unlocked the door and tossed her things on the passenger seat beside her.

"What happened to that Beamer you had a few months ago?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow at Cindy.

"I put it in storage," Cindy said. "I'm going to use this one for a little while."

"Okay, Miss Rags to Riches," Lucas laughed, shutting the door after Cindy got in. He waved to her and she pulled out of the parking spot, heading back to the gates and into New York traffic.


	2. Past Lives

Past Lives

"Ow," Cindy groaned, rubbing her shoulder, rotating it and hearing the popping noises.

"Are you okay?" The photographer asked, looking above the camera.

"I'm fine," Cindy winced, rotating her shoulder a final time and feeling the pain subside, but she knew it was only temporary. "An old injury," she explained, putting a smile back on.

The photographer nodded and went back to his camera, barking orders to people around him and to Cindy, who moved in whatever position he wanted.

Cindy stood in front of a set depicting a stall, bales of hay and a racing saddle behind her. Flashes of light surrounded her, blinking on and off, lighting up her bright blond hair. Cindy blinked rapidly with the lights and smiled, posing for the camera.

It was a photo shoot for Vogue and Cindy had been asked to be on the cover. It hadn't been the first time. Since winning the Acorn Stakes on Bosta and the Kentucky Oaks on Chasing Rubies, Cindy had become a glamour girl for the world of Thoroughbred racing, becoming the most popular woman jockey since Ashleigh Griffen and Julie Krone. The instant fame the Acorn Stakes had brought her was somewhat astonishing to Cindy, but she had never been very accustomed to the fame horses could bring their jockeys. She had gone on to ride Bosta through the Breeders' Cup, becoming the risen underdog everyone liked to cheer for.

"Okay," the photographer called, beginning to wind the last roll of film. "That's it. Cindy, I think the interviewer will want to talk with you now."

"Sure," Cindy nodded, pushing her long blond hair out of her face as she strode off the set, walking back into the changing room where she could slip into her preferred jeans and sweater.

Cindy had no idea what she was going to be expected to say at this interview. It was so unlike the others that she had done. Those had been for racing magazines, like the Daily Racing Form and the Kentucky Connection. This was Vogue, Cindy rolled her eyes, something she had never even read.

"Cindy McLean," a woman, smartly dressed in a charcoal gray suit, stood up when Cindy entered the interviewing room. "I'm Becky Spires, a writer with Vogue."

"Hi," Cindy shook the well-manicured hand that Becky offered her and sat down in the plush chair opposite a shimmering coffee table. Two glasses of water sat there, looking rather bland in front of Cindy.

Becky sat down in the other chair and looked at her notes.

"You'll have to forgive me," she started, smiling at Cindy innocently. "But I have no clue about horse racing. Perhaps you'll guide me through it?"

"Sure," Cindy shrugged, reaching for the water and taking a sip. "Anything you want to know."

"Great," Becky smiled, reaching up to see if her dark hair was in place. Cindy only frowned, playing with her long blond hair self-consciously. She had never liked being around reporters. To her, they expressed an arrogance she always had a great disdain for. It was the arrogance of someone who had gone through college and had a regular paying job. Cindy didn't have any of that. She just considered herself lucky.

"Okay," Becky settled back in the chair. "Staring out, you lived at Whitebrook Farm and helped out with March to Glory, who some people call the greatest of his decade, and Wonder's Champion, the Tripe Crown winner." Becky stared at the unfamiliar term, then smiled. "What was that like?"

Cindy sighed and shrugged, "At the time I thought it was amazing. I come from a background of foster homes -- my parents died when I was a baby -- so I had never even thought I would be in that situation. To work with any horse, let alone a Thoroughbred racing champion, was a dream. But, once that dream was accomplished, I wanted to start doing more, like jockeying. When I started to ride Wonder's Champion I knew that was it."

"Right," Becky nodded, "you rode Wonder's Champion in the Dubai World Cup."

"The richest race in the world," Cindy supplied for her.

Becky bit her lip and laughed. "Thank you. You rode him in the richest race in the world and won. What did that do for your career?"

"I think," Cindy paused. "If I had been older it would've pushed my career to unbelievable heights. But I was only barely seventeen and I was an apprentice. I think it was considered a great blow of luck for most people in the racing world, and that I was riding a proven champion made me look something akin to a sack of potatoes to some trainers, I would think. So I don't believe it did much more for my career than starting out at Whitebrook did."

"And then you found yourself in Dubai only a few years later," Becky pointed out, fiddling with her tape recorder before setting it down on the table.

"Yes, I did," Cindy shrugged. "It was after Wonder's Champion had been sold. I decided to go along for the ride, I guess you could say."

"That's fairly bold for a young woman jockey just starting out," Becky's eyebrows rose.

"Well," Cindy chuckled, trying to keep the bitterness from seeping through her voice. "That didn't exactly work out. A few months after I got there I found myself back on a plane to Kentucky. I did stay with Whitebrook for another year or so before heading out on my own."

"I heard it wasn't easily sailing from there," Becky said, leaning forward.

"It was hell," Cindy admitted. "I went from one race track to the next. I think I've lived in at least eight cities and nothing was working out. Either I didn't get enough rides or I got enough rides and not enough of the cut, so I could never pay my bills. I wound up going through L.A., Dallas, New Orleans, Hot Springs, Miami, Baltimore, and Saratoga. Nothing ever worked out at any of those places. That's when I started to think that I wasn't anything special to the racing world. I was just a spoiled kid who won the Dubai World Cup and that was it."

"And then you ran to Belmont. Did you ever think about going back to Whitebrook?"

"No," Cindy shook her head immediately. "I didn't even consider it an option. I went to Belmont and met Lucas Simm, who signed me on as an exercise rider and eventually as a jockey. It was his Bosta that pushed me up into success. Then there was Chasing Rubies the next year in the Kentucky Oaks."

"Kentucky Oaks?"

"It's like the Kentucky Derby for fillies, but the Derby always overshadows it," Cindy explained, looking annoyed.

"That was Chasing Rubies' last win," Becky said, looking at her notes.

"Yes, she stumbled in the Black Eyed Susan two weeks later. She came out of it with only broken sesamoids, which heeled. I think she's a broodmare at Overbrook Farm now."

Becky was nodding to herself and smiled, putting on a friendly face. "How has success treated you?"

"Very well, actually," Cindy laughed, brightening up at the prospect of leaving her past. "I'm riding the greatest horses in America. I couldn't be more thrilled, especially after having such a rocky beginning."

"What about that Kentucky Derby," Becky asked, leaning back now. "You've won plenty of Breeder's Cup races for a woman. The Sprint, Filly and Mare Turf, and Distaff are all very prestigious. But what about the Derby?"

"I've ridden once in the Kentucky Derby, but that race is so difficult it's very hard to ride a winner," Cindy paused and shook her head. "That was High Roller and he came in ninth out of eighteen horses. Since then, and that was about six years ago, I haven't been approached with a Derby prospect by any of the big trainers like Baffert or Lukas. I've been going to England for most summers also to ride for some big families in the English racing circuit. Through them I've won a St. Leger, one of the legs of the English Triple Crown."

"You are certainly well traveled," Becky commented, looking up at Cindy.

Cindy played with her long blond hair and nodded, "It helps when you grow up on a famous Thoroughbred farm."

"On that," Becky stated, looking at Cindy seriously. "Why did you leave Whitebrook?"

"Excuse me?" Cindy jerked her head up, startled. Not many people had asked her that question so bluntly.

"Well," Becky started. "Whitebrook needed jockeys and trainers, and it is a very notable farm. You probably could've been successful straight off."

Cindy shook her head and remained silent, thinking.

"I'm sorry if I touched a nerve," Becky began, looking at Cindy with concern.

"No," Cindy shook her head. "There's a reason I left, and I'll tell you." She looked at Becky hard.

"It's hard to explain in some ways," she said softly, looking down at her fingernails. "And it comes off sounding as a pathetic excuse to leave, but as I began to jockey Honor Bright I started to have more and more arguments with Ashleigh Griffen, the owner of the farm. Finally, there just wasn't enough room for our two different personalities. I got the chance to own and train Glory's Joy, to use my own methods, and everything exploded."

Becky just looked at her. Cindy frowned and furrowed her eyebrows.

"Like I said, it's hard to explain simply," Cindy said slowly, as if dodging the real issue. "But the celebrity status of Whitebrook was so daunting and huge to get around, and the presence of Ashleigh Griffen, one of the greatest riders the racing world has ever seen, made my career harder to define there. I had to get away and start on my own, even if it meant starting rock bottom and without an agent, which I had no money to hire. Does that make sense?"

Becky looked at her quietly, as if she were trying to figure out an endless jigsaw puzzle.

"I guess it wouldn't," she added, sighing.

"No," Becky shook her head, "I guess not."

"Anyway, that's why I left and I don't believe Whitebrook needs me to help them anymore," Cindy shrugged. "Simple as that, I guess."

The interview went on for another thirty or so minutes and then Cindy left, happy to be out of the studio and happy to be away from someone so eager to dissect her life. She hated it when people mentioned Whitebrook. Whenever she was asked why she had left Whitebrook her skin would start to crawl, and she didn't know why.

Cindy's feud with Ashleigh was an ongoing one, stemming from several disagreements and one huge action. Sometimes Cindy would catch herself thinking back on that day and wondering if she could've done anything to prevent it. Usually she would just go back to convincing herself that living at Whitebrook as a budding jockey had been a horrible experience for her, and she left it at that. She knew she was bitter, and a part of her enjoyed having it eat at her. The other part of her, the part that she had become an expert at concealing, wanted to break down into tears.

Cindy drove through the crowded New York streets, turning into her apartment complex's car garage. She steered the Mercedes up past the guard, who smiled and waved at her. She smiled back and gunned the car down to her favorite spot, just in front of the elevator.

As the elevator took her up to the second to top floor, Cindy stood in the center of the moving cubical and leafed through her mail, pulling out her bills and junk that everyone seemed to be sending her lately. There were three pieces of fan mail, she noted with pleasure, filing them to the back where she would read them last. She liked to hear all about her fans. Sometimes she would get a letter with stalker potential, but usually she just ignored them and nothing was ever sent from the person again.

She filed through the last pieces of junk mail as the elevator was nearing the tenth floor. Cindy lived on the fourteenth, so she still had plenty of time to perfect her mail filing. Then she landed across an envelope she recognized instantly.

There was a horse galloping in the upper left-hand corner in blue ink, the words Whitebrook stenciled over him in fine letters. Cindy frowned and turned the letter over, tugging at the flap in the back. Hurriedly, she pulled the white, blue ruled paper out of the envelope.

Just then the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Cindy looked up, and walked quickly out of the doors, almost sprinting down the white carpeted hallway to her door, apartment 14D.

She slid the key into the lock and shoved the door open, walking into her apartment. She threw her purse and other mail on the kitchen table and collapsed on her overstuffed white sofa, opening up the letter.

_Dear Cindy, she read, staring hard at the words. _

_It's been so long that I've talked to you that I thought a letter might be easier for the both of us. I had wanted to call, but Samantha pointed out that a letter was a little easier to take. _

_I wanted to speak to you about a few things._

"What on earth could Ashleigh have to talk to me about," Cindy muttered to herself, reading on.

_Firstly, about the Triple Crown. We've got a contender this year! And, oddly, he's one of Mike's purchases from a yearling sale a few years ago, not one of Wonder's so there are no Townsend problems we have to deal with. He's a big, well made colt and should be a distance horse because his sire is Crytpoclearance, and we all know that his offspring are hot lately. It's for this reason I was wanting to speak with you. _

_This is a little premature, but I was wondering if Mike, Christina, and I could visit you if our Classic prospect makes it to the Belmont Stakes. We both know you haven't seen Christina in ages. She's sixteen now. Perhaps you could give her a big tour of the city?_

Cindy frowned, setting down the letter and rubbing her eyes.

"Little does she know," she murmured, picking the letter up again. "I've got a prospect too, Ash."

She frowned at the letter and picked it up again.

_Are you going to England again this summer? Perhaps another St. Leger win? Christina watched you win the Breeders' Cup Sprint last November on Brushed Black. She's taken with you, and hopes you could teach her a few things. She's no longer interested in eventing, as you may have heard from Sammy. In fact, she's taking care of Wonder's last -- Star. She hopes to ride him in his two-year-old season, if I'll let her. She's built to be a jockey, a rather tall one, but still jockey material._

"That's right," Cindy muttered. "Another young jockey to butt heads with, huh?" She shook her head, tired of fighting with Ashleigh, and wishing she could at least see Glory again.

_Please call me about the Belmont, and what you may be doing concerning it. If you have a Derby prospect as well, perhaps we could all get together at Whitebrook? _

_Glory is missing you, as usual. Sometimes he stands in his paddock, just staring out at the cottages like he's waiting for you to come down to greet him. He's always let down when one of us show up instead. _

_I'll be waiting for your call. _

_Love, Ashleigh._

Cindy sighed and put the letter down, then got up, walking to the wet bar. Automatically she made herself a drink and moved over to the huge glass doors that overlooked her patio and Central Park beyond. The city was covered in a light dusting of snow, and the park looked beautiful, even if it wasn't spring yet.

Cindy sighed and noticed the second envelope lying by the letter. She walked over and picked it up, flipping it open and reaching inside.

Pictures of Glory, she smiled, leafing through the photos of the gray horse. Her lovely horse had grown noticeably older since the last time she had seen him, several years ago. Cindy shook her head. He must be nearing nineteen now, she mused, looking at him critically.

"You still look good, boy," Cindy smiled, kissing the photos lovingly.

She pulled out her favorite, one of Glory holding a Frisbee victoriously in his mouth, and walked over to her slew of picture frames, all silver and wood. She slid the picture in among them and smiled, looking at them all.

There were photos of many people around her apartment. Mostly they were of Samantha and Heather Gilbert, her best friend in school at Lexington. Heather had gone on to an art school in California, where she lived now, and became a fairly famous equine photographer and artist. Cindy had several of her works hanging in her living room. Most were of Glory, Champion, and Honor.

Cindy sighed, picking up a picture of Ashleigh and Wonder, the older woman's champion racehorse, now gone.

"I suppose I'll have to call her sometime," Cindy reasoned, looking at Ashleigh in the picture. "Tomorrow," she vowed, pointing at Ashleigh's face in the frame. "I'll call you tomorrow and tell you everything you want to know."

Cindy set the picture down and felt that familiar pain in her shoulder. She groaned quietly and rubbed it, walking to her bathroom to get some Tylenol. Sometimes she wondered when it would just give out on her. Cindy downed the two white pills and rubbed her shoulder, looking at herself in the mirror.

Whatever happened to that little, innocent girl, she wondered, staring at her reflection. It was like she couldn't see herself anymore.


	3. Just Another Prospect

3.

"Just Another Prospect"

Cindy stood in the stands of Aqueduct, a famous Thoroughbred race track in Queens, a burrow of New York City. Huddling into her wool coat, she walked down the steps until she stopped by Lucas, who sat on one of the bleachers, reading the Daily Racing Form.

"It's too damn cold," Cindy complained, plopping down next to the older man, rubbing her hands against the sides of her legs in an effort to stay warm.

"You should've stayed down in Kentucky," Lucas chuckled, finishing the article he was reading and then finally putting down the paper.

"You're working Watchmaker today?" Cindy asked, looking out at the first string of works. Immaculately groomed and bred horses were making their way around the track, snorting huge puffs of white mist through their nostrils. It was nearly five in the morning, and all that Cindy could see by were the flood lights that glowed over the track.

"Yeah," Lucas said, nodding and watching one of his horses, a filly named Star of Chance, warm up on the far side of the track. "He's been going really well for Micky the past week back at Belmont. We're going to have to see how he likes the track here under you."

"I'm sure he'll do great," Cindy said, casually dismissing Lucas' plans with a wave of her gloved hand. "He's one of Shining's after all."

Lucas snorted and shook his head. "More like one of Red Army's if you ask me. Everything that colt has done so far is a carbon copy of his sire."

Cindy frowned, remembering the red chestnut colt well. He had trained under Lucas just as Cindy had gotten a job at Belmont as an exercise rider. She even got to ride him a few times when Micky was out sick or at Aqueduct. He was a big, well made colt, and, Cindy had to admit, Watchmaker looked exactly like him.

Star of Chance was galloping out the last furlong, speeding by the grandstand in a flourishing finish for her day. Lucas nodded to himself, pleased with her movements.

"Jack's going to have it easy with her today," he muttered to himself, talking about his main assistant trainer, Jack Fieldman.

Cindy nodded to herself. "I bet he will. She went well."

"Let's get down to the track," Lucas suggested, watching Jack collect Star of Chance by the gap. "Watchmaker is going to be out soon."

Cindy and Lucas made their way down to the barns just as Jack led the big red colt out of his stall. Watchmaker turned his head and surveyed Cindy and Lucas closely, pricking his ears at them alertly.

"Hey, Red," Cindy grinned, walking up to the colt, running her hand down his chestnut neck. "How was his trip up?" she asked Jack, who was busy checking the colt's legs.

"Not bad," Jack responded, finishing his check on Watchmaker's legs, straightening up to his full height, which was around six feet. Cindy had to crane her neck back to talk to him. "He banged around a bit, but nothing serious happened."

"Good to hear," Cindy smiled, reaching up to rub Watchmaker's white stripe running down his face.

Jack cocked his head at her and smiled. "I heard you did an interview for Vogue about a week ago."

"Oh..." Cindy groaned, shaking her head. "I still don't know why I did that."

"All I want to know is when you're going to start posing for Playboy," Jack laughed, pinching her in the side.

Cindy jumped and smacked his arm lightly. "Jack! Come on! It was an interview about the women in the business world. I hardly think Playboy would be interested in that."

"You'd be surprised," Jack pointed out, laughing and running his hand through his dark brown hair, blue eyes sparkling in play.

"Okay you two," Lucas said, walking up and taking Watchmaker from Jack. "Let's get to work. I'll have no mention of Playboy in my barn."

Cindy suppressed a giggle as she followed Lucas and Watchmaker, waving goodbye to Jack, who had the other horses to prepare. Jack just shook his head at her and walked in the opposite direction, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep warm.

Cindy milled around Lucas as the trainer saddled the colt, slinging the light piece of leather onto the colt's broad back.

"You know we've got a dinner date with Red's owners tonight," Lucas said, looking over at Cindy. "A fashionable place -- black tie."

"Where at?" Cindy asked, walking up on the off side of the red colt, looking the horse up and down.

"It's a new place," Lucas shrugged, tightening the girth. "The Orchard. Jack will be coming with us, most likely to be our comical relief."

Cindy laughed, thinking about the tall assistant trainer's character. Jack could make even the most dire situations funny, not that eating dinner with an owner was a dire situation. Cindy had done that plenty of times and had never hit a snag.

Lucas finished up with Watchmaker and looked out at the track. "Okay, then. Let's get out there."

Cindy walked next to the big red colt as Lucas led him out to the track. Watchmaker snorted and bounced lightly on his feet, shaking his scarlet mane and eyeing Cindy casually.

"You're a good looking boy," Cindy crooned to him as they made their way to the gap. "You know that, don't you?"

Watchmaker snorted at her and turned away indifferently, watching the horses round the track at a full gallop. Lucas stopped the colt by the rail and put his attention on Cindy.

"Okay, I want a five furlong breeze. Don't push him though, he'll do that himself," Lucas patted the red colt's shoulder. "I'm going to go notify the official timer of the breeze. Take him around once and start the breeze at the quarter mile pole."

Cindy nodded, getting a leg up into the saddle from Lucas before he stalked off. Cindy liked Lucas. He didn't give her any problems about how to ride. He just told her what he wanted, how fast, and how far, and Cindy followed the directions to the point. It was a great relationship to have with a trainer. Cindy knew of so many jockeys who just couldn't get along with trainers. Either it was money or ego, or a little bit of both. Lucas seemed to not give a damn about either.

Watchmaker stood tall underneath Cindy, gathering all his muscles together, waiting for Cindy to urge him out onto the track.

"Let's go, boy," Cindy said quietly, moving her hands together and nudging the colt into a walk. Watchmaker edged up to the gap, flicking his ears excitedly at the track.

Cindy stopped him at the gap, looking out over the wide expanse of dirt and snow. Then she heeled the colt and Watchmaker exploded, rearing up and leaping onto the track, tossing his head and crab walking sideways over the oval.

"Whoa!" Cindy called, reining the colt's energy in and tugging him to the outside, setting him in a trot. She had never seen the colt so wired before. The only other time she had ridden him he had gone like an angel, but Cindy knew how prone to excitement Thoroughbreds were.

Watchmaker threw his head up, trying to grab the bit in his teeth, eyeing the horses speeding by him on the inside. The red colt bounded forward, trying to rip the reins from Cindy's experienced fingers.

"Oh no," Cindy said, tugging the colt back down to a controlled trot. "I don't think so, boy."

Watchmaker snorted and trotted forward, his mane and tail flowing behind him like blood red banners. Cindy grinned, feeling the colt lengthen his stride into an extended trot, he was so eager to run. It was like riding a dressage horse over a racetrack, Cindy thought to herself.

Finally, she let him out into an impressive canter. Cindy rose into the saddle, floating over the colt's back as he rocked, drifting over the middle of the track. After the colt settled down, Cindy let him drive into a full gallop, allowing him to extend and plow through the last turn, bobbing his head eagerly with each gigantic stride.

Cindy shifted the colt to the inside of the track and lowered herself in the saddle, letting the colt have more rein. Watchmaker took it willingly and leapt forward, shaking his head playfully. Cindy jiggled the bit, returning the colt to the work at hand.

Then she let him have his head.

Watchmaker streaked by the quarter mile pole, surging into the home stretch and running full out. Cindy felt her long hair whipping behind her, becoming tangled and messy. Vaguely she wished she had pulled it back into a braid that morning. Watchmaker snorted and upped his speed once he realized that Cindy wasn't going to stop him. The red colt flew by the white railing, passing by warming up horses on the inside, stretching out his neck like a true racehorse.

"Come on," Cindy whispered. "Let's go, Red."

Watchmaker plowed into the first turn, almost nearing the end marker. Cindy urged him on with her hands, kneading them over the red colt's neck, pushing them up and down. The red colt knew the signal and plunged forward again, galloping out readily, flashing by the last marker.

Cindy stood up in the saddle, pulling the red colt up. Curiously, she glanced back at the official time and grinned.

"A minute flat," a jockey by her said as he walked by on his own mount, peering at the flashing time. "Pretty good!"

"Fantastic!" Cindy cried, patting Watchmaker's shoulder happily as they turned and headed back to the gap, where Lucas was standing with a grin spread over his face.

"Where the hell is this place?" Cindy asked, looking at all the restaurants that lined the street. She peered through the tinted glass of Jack's Jaguar and frowned, staring at the sidewalks and the people walking down them, some obviously rich New York residents and some more obviously tourists.

"There," Jack pointed further down the street. "The Orchard. Mediterranean food."

"That's really that last thing I need," Cindy said, patting her stomach, glancing over at Jack, who chuckled in response.

"Come on, Cin. You can eat a Greek Salad, or something."

"Or something," Cindy responded, smiling at Jack, holding on to the door handle as he pulled up to the restaurant and into the valet parking.

Cindy stepped out of the car by herself, not waiting for Jack to come around since she didn't consider this a date by any means. She slammed the black Jaguar's door closed and looked up at the building. It looked very Italian, Cindy thought to herself, remembering back to her trips to Rome.

"Come on, Ms. McLean," Jack said, offering her his arm. "Let's find our table."

Cindy glanced back at the car as a valet got in the driver's side and gunned the Jag forward, driving it to a lot behind the building.

"Sure," Cindy said, weaving her arm through his and letting him lead her into the restaurant. Cindy walked up the steps carefully, lifting up her blue dress so she wouldn't step on it, showing off her high heeled black sandals.

"Kinda cold to be wearing sandals, don't you think?" Jack asked, looking down at Cindy with a smile on his face.

Cindy glanced up at Jack, glaring at him from the corner of her eye.

"I mean, they're really sexy, but..."

"Jack," Cindy warned. "Just stop," she laughed.

"Okay, okay," Jack said, opening the door for Cindy and walking inside. "Your hair looks fantastic, too."

"Jack," Cindy laughed, hitting his arm. She had done up her long tresses into loosely twisting curls, letting them fall down her back luxuriously. Cindy bit her lip, suppressing the laughter as Jack played with it curiously. He was so hard to control sometimes, even as a twenty-nine year old man.

"I think they're over there," Cindy said, pulling Jack's hands away from her hair and pointing across the large room.

"Yeah," Jack nodded. "I see Lucas."

The two wound their way around tables and stopped by the large round table where Lucas and an older couple sat. Lucas and the man stood up, smiling.

"Cindy," Lucas smiled. "Jack, this is John and Maggie Dearhart. Mr. and Mrs. Dearhart, may I present Cindy McLean, your jockey, and Jack Fieldman, my assistant trainer."

Mr. Dearhart offered his hand first to Cindy, then to Jack, grasping their hands in turn and shaking them energetically.

"It's good to finally meet all of Mr. Simm's team," Mr. Dearhart said, sitting back down and looking at his wife. Cindy and Jack slid into their seats, looking around the large restaurant, which was beautifully decorated with vines and old paintings.

"We're very excited about Watchmaker," Mrs. Dearhart said, returning Cindy to the conservation at the table. "We think he's our biggest runner yet! Lucas has told us that he has the best people working with him."

"With Cindy you can't go wrong," Lucas said, smiling and beckoning the waiter. The smartly dressed worker spun by the table and Lucas ordered one of their best bottles of wine, insisting that it was his treat.

Cindy looked the owners over, evaluating them critically like she did all the other owners she had worked for. These appeared no different. Mr. Dearhart was sitting tall and straight, graying hair slicked back, in a dark business suit, most likely Armani, Cindy thought to herself. Mrs. Dearhart was also in a tailored suit, diamonds around her neck. Old money, Cindy knew, smiling softly.

"Ms. McLean," Mr. Dearhart said, letting Lucas pour him a glass of wine. "How do you like our colt?"

"He's a dream to ride," Cindy smiled, knowing the old routine. She was very good at talking to owners, lying to them when she needed to. However, this time she was going to tell the truth. The few times she had ever rode Watchmaker she just knew that he was her Derby ticket.

"The moment I saw that colt," Mrs. Dearhart said, smiling, "we were at the Keeneland auction in January. I knew of Red Army, of course, and when I saw Watchmaker I just fell in love with him. But John here was all set on this bay Unbridled colt, who wasn't nearly as correct as my Watchmaker. I couldn't get John's attention since he was so engrossed with that colt, so I grabbed the lead rope from the handler and walked that chestnut up to John and told him to look at my Red Army colt since he's going to be our big one."

"Maggie begged me to buy him," Mr. Dearhart boomed, laughing heartily at their story. Cindy raised her eyebrows and smiled, glancing over at Jack, who was nodding his head, a smile on his face.

Mrs. Dearhart turned to Cindy and said, "Lucas tells me that you lived on the farm that owned Watchmaker's dam."

"My sister, Samantha Nelson, owns her, actually," Cindy said, leaning forward. "Shining just lived on the farm."

"Right," Mrs. Dearhart said, nodded. "I hear she was quite a racer."

"She was," Cindy said, sipping her wine. "She won the Santa Anita Handicap and the Whitney against colts, not to mention winning the Distaff."

"Watchmaker does have good bloodlines," Mr. Dearhart said loudly, nodding proudly. "I'm beginning to wonder whether or not any other three-year-old has the pedigree to beat him."

Lucas shook his head. "There are plenty of colts out there that are pretty good looking, John," he said, frowning. "I think Watchmaker has a very legitimate chance, even if I haven't even run him yet. The way he moves excites me."

Maggie frowned, "How so?"

"Watchmaker floats," Jack said, looking intently at Mrs. Dearhart. "His strides are even and sure for a colt that hasn't ever been in a race before. He's destined to be a great runner, I think."

"What about that competition," John said, frowning at Jack. "Who are the big ones coming up in the Derby?"

"Well," Lucas leaned back, frowning in thought. "There is the two-year-old champion Countdown. Then there is Hero's Triumph, who is looking really good right now at Santa Anita. I'm also running Well's Station, the Hollywood Futurity winner, in the preps. Other horses aren't so clear cut yet. I know a few farms have a lot of hopefuls. Townsend Acres has Townsend King. Stonerside has Model T. Whitebrook has Russian Winter."

"Russian Winter?" Cindy asked, frowning. That must be the colt Ashleigh was talking about.

"A Cryptoclearance colt out of a Seattle Slew mare. He ran a few times at two. Very talented," Lucas summed up, nodding. "You know anything about him, Cindy?"

"Only that they are hoping to run the entire Triple Crown with him," Cindy said, frowning. "Ashleigh must think he is really good if she's thinking that far in advance."

Lucas nodded, saying, "Nothing is for certain, though. No one has been nominated to the Triple Crown yet."

Cindy sat through the rest of the dinner, thinking about Whitebrook and Russian Winter. She hadn't called Ashleigh yet, making excuses to herself whenever she forgot. Now she was so tied up with Watchmaker's upcoming race that she wouldn't have the time to pick up the phone and have a lengthy conversation about visits and racing plans for a horse she had never seen and who might never get past the second prep.

The night flew by quickly and Jack drove Cindy home, whistling as he steered the car through the heavy New York traffic.

"Did you like them?" Jack asked, steering the car into her parking garage, parking and killing the engine.

"Yeah," Cindy said, nodding. "I think they're reasonable people. Lucas probably doesn't have many problems with them."

Jack nodded and looked over at her, grinning. "You want me to walk you up?"

"I think I've got it," Cindy said, opening the door and stepping out of the car. "Thanks for the ride," she smiled, waving at him.

"I'll see you at the race," Jack said, waving back. "Sleep tight."

"You too," Cindy said, slamming the door closed and making her way to the elevator. She stood in the middle of the small box and frowned, thinking about Whitebrook. She wondered how it had changed over the years. With Wonder gone, Cindy knew everything must be painfully different.


	4. Opening In Aqueduct

4.

"Opening in Aqueduct"

Cindy sat on Lightly Frosted, a dappled gray filly, in the second race of the day, an allowance for 3-year-old fillies. She leaned back in the saddle, watching the others in the field of eleven slide one by one into the gate, snorting and shaking their well-groomed manes with unbound energy.

Lightly Frosted snorted and arched her neck, confidently taking a few prancing steps forward, pausing momentarily to let the outrider catch up with her. Cindy smiled and patted the gray filly's neck, smoothing her hands over the light colored coat, running her fingers through the black and white mane.

"Whoa," she said as the filly snorted and skittered sideways, dragging the lead pony with her. Cindy sat deeply in the saddle, setting a calming hand on the filly's neck. Lightly Frosted came to a shivering halt, tossing her head high and jerking at the reins.

"Pretty girl," said an attendant, wearing a blue shirt with Aqueduct embroidered across the front and a heavy dark blue jacket. "Let's go."

Cindy bobbed lightly in the saddle as the filly trotted forward, entering the gate, jumping nervously as the back doors closed with a bang behind her.

Cindy shushed the gray, pulling down her goggles and weaving her fingers through the black and white mane, leaning forward to stare out at the track. The filly stood calmly, waiting for the rest of the horses to load, peering over the gate door with curious eyes.

Cindy glanced down the row of horses, watching the last to load. She gripped onto the filly's mane, waiting for the starter to open the gates. It would come any time now.

Then the gates swung open in unison, the bell ringing in Cindy's ears.

"Go!" Cindy shouted just as all the fillies lunged out of the gate. Lightly Frosted plunged with them, digging her dainty hooves into the dirt and kicking off with her powerful hindquarters, surging out of the gate and up to the lead. Cindy urged the filly on, pumping her hands along the gray neck, slapping the filly on the shoulder in encouragement.

Lightly Frosted surged ahead of her competitors, the first out of the gate and leading the field into the first turn.

Cindy settled back into the saddle after the filly flew past the quarter mile marker pole, leaning down to cut the wind resistance. She easily rocked in the saddle, feeling the filly cruise along, showing no signs of distress.

As Lightly Frosted entered the backstretch, Cindy glanced under her arm, seeing a competitor gallop up on the inside, a bay filly called Foxy Lady.

"Oh no," Cindy said, shaking her head. She led Lightly Frosted out a notch, letting the filly gallop out faster, lengthening their lead over Foxy Lady and the other nine fillies. Lightly Frosted snorted and arched her neck, running quickly, floating down the backstretch. This was the filly's running style, Cindy knew. She was a front runner all the way around, outrunning her competition to the finish line, making them use up their energy attempting to keep up with her.

"Good," Cindy hissed, feeling the filly's powerful muscles working beneath her, carrying Cindy into the far turn.

Looking under her arm again, Cindy saw the rest of the field moving up, wanting to overtake the gray filly. Foxy Lady had dropped back, allowing a chestnut, Halibut, to run up on Lightly Frosted's outside flank.

Cindy gathered the reins, leaning down and pumping her arms again. It was time to go to the reserve tanks, which Cindy knew the filly had in abundance. Lightly Frosted huffed eagerly as Cindy moved her hands, signaling the last run. Midway on the turn, Lightly Frosted went into overdrive, galloping full out and leaving Halibut behind, lunging into the homestretch.

Cindy glanced behind her again, facing the entire field as it churned behind her, confidently moving up to overtake the gray filly. Cindy went to the whip, pulling out the crop and slinging it around in her hand, moving back to tap Lightly Frosted's hindquarters. The filly responded, plunging, galloping faster. Cindy glanced behind her again and saw In Deep Blue galloping up, going five wide, sprinting to the finish.

"Come on!" Cindy called to the filly, raising the crop again and flicking it past the gray filly's left eye, wanting more speed. The filly gave all she had, snorting and running faster again, her strides sure but tired. In Deep Blue, a dark bay filly, flew up next to Lightly Frosted, eyeing the gray filly warily, her ears pinned back in concentration.

Cindy slapped the crop against the gray filly's quarters three times, then flashed it by her eye, insisting on more from the filly. Lightly Frosted snorted and drew even with In Deep Blue, not letting the bigger, darker filly get past her. The finish line was looming ahead and Cindy hit Lightly Frosted harder this time, moving her hands in tandem with each other.

The jockey for In Deep Blue jerked his hands over the filly's neck, moving them up her crest, needing more from her, and the filly had it. A stride before the finish line, In Deep Blue surged ahead, putting her head in front, inching away from Lightly Frosted.

"Come on!" Cindy yelled again, flicking the whip by the filly's eye several times, but the race was over. In Deep Blue flew past the wire, ears pricked and slowing already. Lightly Frosted followed a split second later, in second.

"Ugh," Cindy groaned, standing up in the stirrups, slowing the gray filly in the first turn, letting her come down to a trembling stop. Cindy sat down in the saddle and pulled her goggles off her face, rotating her old shoulder.

"Thought you almost had that one!" In Deep Blue's jockey called, trotting the dark filly back to the winner's circle. "Maybe next time!"

"Okay, Roberto!" Cindy called back, shaking her head and sighing, wondering what had gone wrong. She turned her filly around, heading back to the grandstand to hand off Lightly Frosted to her groom.

The filly shook her sweaty head, trotting back to the stands, lifting her feet just barely over the ground as she went.

Cindy leapt off of Lightly Frosted, handing her to the groom, pulling off the filly's saddle to go weigh in. As she walked by, she glanced into the winner's circle as In Deep Blue stood calmly for her picture.

"Are you going to head her to stakes competition?" A track reporter asked the filly's trainer.

"Possibly," the trainer said. "I'd like to see how far I can get her. She's a strong filly and very versatile, just like her sire."

Cindy frowned, walking up to the scale, standing on it for a split second as the assistant recorded her weight, then jumped off. She remembered In Deep Blue's sire. He was a Whitebrook horse - In Shadows - who had gone up against Glory in only one race. That had been a long time ago, Cindy reminded herself. The two had several crops of foals by now, and In Shadows wasn't even standing at Whitebrook.

Cindy walked into the woman's side of the jockey's room, quickly stripping off the silks for Lightly Frosted's owners and went to Watchmaker's silks, which were deep hunter green with two white bars wrapping around the upper arms. Cindy pulled the silks out of her locker and went into the bathroom, splashing water over her face, ridding her forehead and neck of the tiny beads of sweat that clung there. Even in January weather Cindy still managed to break out in a sweat during the races.

She toweled her face dry and slipped into the green silks, walking out of the bathroom as she tucked them into her white jockey pants, grabbing her helmet as she went. She pulled off the light blue hat cover and pulled on the hunter green cover, pulling it over the hard plastic helmet.

Cindy redid her long blond hair and firmly placed the helmet on top, making sure all her thick hair was pulled back into a big knot behind her head. Then she started out to the paddock again.

By the time she got there, Watchmaker was already in the paddock with the rest of the horses, eyeing his surroundings curiously. The colt had trained in the paddock with Lucas and Jack several days ago, to make sure he would understand what was going on, but there were crowds this time and there was no telling what a maiden would do.

Cindy stopped by Watchmaker's stall and watched the colt as the groom led him past. The colt was definitely high strung, Cindy noticed, watching Watchmaker jerk on the reins and shake his mane, dancing behind the groom.

"Nice race, Cindy," Lucas said, walking up with the saddle. "Kinda cut hard into that little filly, though. Don't you think?"

"She can handle it," Cindy shook her head. "I probably didn't give her enough of my mind, actually. She let In Deep Blue get by her."

"Well," Lucas frowned. "This is a maiden race for three-year-old colts, so I don't want any of that going on with Watchmaker. There's no telling what's going to happen out there."

Cindy nodded. It was common knowledge that maiden races were dangerous, especially when most of the entrants had never raced before.

"I got ya," Cindy smiled, winking at Lucas, who rolled his eyes in return. "What are the plans, though?" Cindy asked, becoming serious.

"There isn't a plan," Lucas said, shrugging as the groom led Watchmaker into the stall so he could be saddled. "Three horses out of the ten entered have raced before. Red here has shown he has speed, but I don't know how he's going to want to use it. Red Army used to run off the pace, Shining was sometimes a front runner. This is our test run, but as it is it's going to be chaos out there."

Cindy nodded, knowing she was going to have to have a lot of patience to get Watchmaker through his first race, and Cindy knew her patience wore thin most of the time. Cindy was a veteran at this sport, but she hated teaching horses how to run, especially when she was riding them.

"Red will do great," Cindy said, running her hand over Watchmaker's white stripe, scratching the colt's chin with her short fingernails.

"Cindy," Lucas said, tightening the colt's girth and buckling the straps. "I just want you to get him clear at the gate. He may fall back, but we both know he has the speed to run late. Let's try that and see how he goes."

"Alright," Cindy nodded, turning back to Jack, who winked at her and wished her good luck. The horses were moving out of their stalls to take a few laps around the walking ring again. Jack led Watchmaker out of his stall and headed down the paddock, leading the energetic colt down the walk way.

"Still looking for your first win today?" Lucas asked, milling around the stall, finally leaning against the stall post and shoving his hands in his coat pockets.

Cindy nodded. "Lightly Frosted was going to be it, but I think Red is going to be a lock."

Lucas nodded, watching the red chestnut colt prance around the paddock, shaking his crimson mane and arching his shimmering neck, blowing out of wide nostrils.

Jack led the red colt back to the stall just as riders up was called, a suited man with a clipboard pointing at Cindy and Watchmaker.

"That's us," Lucas said, holding the colt as Jack gave Cindy a leg up into the saddle. Cindy leapt up on to the colt's broad back, settling in the light racing saddle. Watchmaker snorted as Jack handed him off to the groom, who would lead the horse and jockey down to the track.

"I'll see you guys later!" Cindy called, waving over her shoulder and standing up in the stirrups momentarily, bouncing lightly in the saddle to make sure her feet were securely in the stirrups.

Watchmaker was led down into the tunnel and was handed off to an outrider, who would pony them up to the gate. Cindy sat tall and proud in the saddle as they paraded past the Grandstand. Watchmaker arched his neck quietly, eyeing the small crowds clustered in small groups along the rail and stands. The glimmering red colt pranced by, shaking his mane audaciously.

"Nice looking colt," the woman outrider smiled, gripping onto the reins with her gloved hand as Watchmaker bounded forward, eager to run.

"I know," Cindy smiled back, reaching down and patting Watchmaker's shoulder. The red colt calmed down and walked like a gentleman as they passed the gate. The outrider kicked into a slow gallop, urging Watchmaker into a canter, looping along next to the short-striding Quarter Horse.

They turned in the backstretch, approaching the gate. The race was only a mile, Cindy reminded herself, frowning at the big blue gate. She would have to get Watchmaker to break fast in order to get him up in time to win. One thing Cindy was sure of was that the red colt was no March to Glory, who won his six furlong maiden by twenty lengths.

The colts loaded into the gate one by one. Several balked hard, eyeing the gate and refusing to move forward. Cindy rolled her eyes, sitting confidently on Watchmaker, who stood like a rock, watching with interest.

Mr. Furious, a light bay colt, reared up, scattering the attendants who had flocked around him in an effort to push him into the gate.

"This is almost worse than watching two-year-old maidens," Cindy commented to the outrider, who chuckled lightly.

"That one is new to the track," the outrider responded. "He barely passed his gate test."

Cindy nodded. She knew that Watchmaker had passed his gate test with flying colors. The red colt snorted and shook his mane, as though bored with the situation before him.

Mr. Furious finally landed on all fours after rearing up twice, nearly kicking a starter in the head. The attendants wasted no time pouncing on him, blindfolding the young colt, turning him around, and sticking him in the gate. By the time they pulled off the blindfold the colt was so disoriented he stood quietly, attempting to figure out what had happened.

The rest of the colts in the ten horse field walked into the gate cautiously, eyeing the metal contraption with wary looks on their long faces. Watchmaker pranced into the gate, snorting arrogantly as he did. Cindy smiled proudly, patting the colt and praising him as she pulled her goggles over her eyes.

The last horse entered the gate and the starter wasted no time. A split second later, the gate doors banged open and the bell screamed through Cindy's ears.

"Go!" Cindy yelled, pushing her hands over the colt's neck. Watchmaker reared up, throwing himself out of the gate and pushing with his massive hindquarters, sprinting up to take the lead.

Cindy pumped with her arms, suddenly finding herself on the lead and up by two lengths. She glanced behind her to see the rest of the horses attempting to follow Watchmaker's lead, galloping all out in an attempt to catch the fiery red colt. Cindy grinned to herself and settled Watchmaker on the rail, letting the colt run at his own pace.

Watchmaker ran easily down the track, entering the turn before Cindy even realized how fast the colt was going. She glanced behind her again to see that Watchmaker had pulled away even further, snorting with glee.

Cindy frowned and did a quick check on Watchmaker, feeling the colt for signs of fatigue. She found none. Watchmaker ran on merrily, leaving his competition behind, pounding around the turn and into the homestretch an easy six lengths ahead. Cindy looked under her arm again and saw Boy Blue making a late move, going around horses to move up on Watchmaker.

Watchmaker flew by the quarter mile pole, snorting eagerly, pricking his ears at the finish line. Cindy heard the snorts of Boy Blue behind her, and she crouched lower in the saddle.

"Okay, Red!" Cindy called, jiggling the reins and pulling out the crop, flicking it once by the colt's eye. Watchmaker snorted at the whip and flicked his ears back again, sensing the fast closing colt on his back. The red horse leapt forward, shifting leads and blew ahead of Boy Blue, galloping down the stretch with his red tail up like fire trailing after him.

Watchmaker was flying now, his blood red mane whipping back to sting Cindy's face. The colt plunged over the track, digging in with his hooves and bobbing his head with each stride, reaching out for the wire.

Cindy laughed with joy as Watchmaker glided past the finish. She stood up in her stirrups and looked back to watch Boy Blue cross the finish line six lengths behind. Watchmaker was the clear winner.

In the winner's circle, Watchmaker stood calmly, being held by Mrs. Dearhart, who had the largest smile pasted on her face. After the photos were taken, she grinned up at Cindy and shook her head.

"That was fantastic! You had a perfect ride!"

Cindy smiled and jumped off Watchmaker's back, patting his barely damp red neck. "He's going to be a great one. I could feel it coming down the stretch. He's got a championship waiting for him!"

Mr. Dearhart puffed his chest out proudly and nodded his head, grinning and rubbing the colt's white-marked face. "So, it's to the stakes races?"

Lucas nodded, taking the colt's reins. Watchmaker whinnied and pawed at the ground, shaking his damp red mane. "It's to the stakes races!"


	5. Grand Central Station

5.

"Grand Central Station"

The shrilling ring of Cindy's cordless phone shattered the quiet silence in the white and blue bedroom, professionally designed and furnished. It rang again, insistent that someone pick it up. Cindy jumped out of sleep and rolled over automatically, her hand falling on the receiver.

She picked the phone out of the cradle and brought it to the side of her face, sleepily answering. "Lucas, if this is about morning works..."

"Cindy?" A decidedly unmasculine voice answered, sounding confused. "Is that you?"

Oh God, Cindy thought, panicking. She knew that voice.

"Ashleigh?" She asked, sitting up in bed now, drawing the covers up over her knees.

"Hi," Ashleigh said, sounding a little relieved that she had gotten the right number. "I'm sorry that I called so early."

Cindy glanced over at the clock and frowned. It was five thirty. She had to get to Belmont soon to gallop some of her mounts. Lucas would kill her if she was late again.

"What are you doing, Ashleigh?" Cindy groaned, suddenly sleepy again, rubbing her eyes with her fingers and hunching over her legs, stretching the sleep away.

"You never responded back to my letter," Ashleigh said, sounding concerned. "That was nearly two weeks ago."

Crap, Cindy thought. She had put off talking to Ashleigh, and now she realized she hadn't wanted to from the beginning.

"Well," Cindy shrugged to herself. "We're talking now."

"Yes," Ashleigh said. The conversation was turning awkward, but both of the women had expected that.

"How's Christina?" Cindy asked in an attempt to start talking. Ashleigh had called her for a reason, and she would just have to get to it by seeking neutral territory.

"She's great," came the response. "I think she's truly found her calling with Star."

"Star," Cindy thought out loud. "Wonder's last, right?"

"Yes," Ashleigh said, "but what I was really calling you for is to ask you about the Belmont."

"You think your colt can get to the Belmont?" Cindy asked, sounding skeptical. It was just like Ashleigh to start planning ahead, even before she knew what would happen in the Derby and the Preakness.

"We're going all the way with him," Ashleigh responded.

"Russian Winter, right? How did you guys get a hold of him?"

"Mike bought him at the Keeneland spring sale last year," Ashleigh said. "He's gorgeous, and his two-year-old season went fantastic. We raced him lightly and he didn't get to the Breeders' Cup, but he has Triple Crown written all over him."

"I've got a prospect, too," Cindy suddenly said, tired of hearing about Russian Winter in only the few words Ashleigh had used to describe the colt.

"Do you?" Ashleigh asked, taken by surprise. "You're not going back to England this summer?"

"No," Cindy said, shaking her head to herself. "I'm riding one of Lucas Simm's colts."

"Well's Station?" Ashleigh asked. "He has a lot of potential. That's great, Cindy."

"No," Cindy said, sighing impatiently. "I've got a mount on Watchmaker."

"Watchmaker?" Ashleigh asked, recognition absent in her voice.

"He's trained by Lucas Simm also, but I think he has even more potential," Cindy said loyally. "He just won his first race by six lengths..."

"That's a little too soon to know if he's Derby material, don't you think?" Ashleigh cut in, a frown sitting in her voice.

"No," Cindy said bluntly. "He's a son of Red Army and Shining. I think he'll do just fine."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. Cindy smiled smugly, glad that she had put Ashleigh in her place for once. She could remember back to when she used to jockey for Whitebrook, and how riding with Ashleigh had made Cindy's life a living hell. It was constant nagging and criticism from Ashleigh, Cindy thought, that had made riding horses, what she loved so much, seem like a chore.

"Watchmaker, huh?" Ashleigh finally responded, sighing. "I suppose that would be Shining's last foal."

"What do you mean?" Cindy asked, taken aback. "What happened?"

"Oh, Samantha retired her from breeding, that's all," Ashleigh said lightly. "After Wonder died, Samantha took Shining's age into consideration and thought it was best to retire her. Shining is only a few years younger than Wonder, after all. It was just a precaution."

"Right," Cindy said, sitting back, glad to hear that the mare was alright. She couldn't bear to think that Shining was gone too.

"I'm happy that you found yourself a mount, and on one of Shining's," Ashleigh said, trailing off. "But I really wanted to talk about the Belmont. Is it okay if we stay with you?"

"Sure," Cindy said in a clipped voice, secretly unsure if she should let them ransack her apartment. She really didn't want them there, but she couldn't just say no. After all, these were the people that taught her everything she knew. "If Russian Winter gets as far as the Belmont."

"I'm sure he will," Ashleigh said. Cindy could picture the older woman flinging her left hand up in the air in a careless gesture. "He's the best in our three-year-old class."

Later that morning, Cindy stalked through Lucas' barn, going over her conversation with Ashleigh in her mind again and again. The woman was so sure of herself, Cindy realized, frowning as she walked down to Watchmaker's stall and stuck her head inside, looking at the big red chestnut colt.

Watchmaker turned around when he sensed her presence, eyeing her from the middle of his stall.

"Hey, Red," Cindy said, bringing herself to smile. "It's just me, boy."

Watchmaker cocked his ears at her and went back to his hay net, snorting quietly and rustling the bedding in his stall.

Cindy leaned against the stall door and watched the colt. The last of Shining. The great mare had given birth to countless champions, just like Wonder had, and two horses of the year -- Shining Waters and Deep Faith. If Watchmaker was anything like those two, he would be one of the best colts of the year. Cindy grinned, watching the deep red horse. He was going to be her dream come true.

"Cindy," Lucas called, walking down the aisle with a saddle and bridle. "You ready to get out there?"

"Sure," Cindy said, sounding less than enthused. She pushed away from Watchmaker's stall and looked at Lucas. "Who's first?"

"Perfect Sparkle," Lucas said, pointing to the light bay filly three stalls down from Watchmaker. The older man stopped when he saw Cindy's face and looked down at her, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"Is it that noticeable?" Cindy asked, a scowl creasing her mouth.

"Just a little," Lucas said, putting the tack down on the bench outside the filly's stall. "What happened?"

"Oh, nothing much," Cindy shook her head, sighing. "I just talked to Ashleigh this morning."

"Oh," Lucas nodded. "The infamous Ashleigh Griffen. What happened?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow intrepidly.

Cindy shook her head. "Nothing much, actually. It just brought back some bad memories."

"Right," Jack snorted from behind her, walking up and pinching her waist, making Cindy jump. "Miss. Upper-Class who grew up on a horse farm has some bad memories? That's rich," Jack joked, stopping next to Lucas and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes," Cindy insisted. "I've got some bad memories."

"Uh-huh," Jack waved her off with his hand. "Let's get you on the track before you have to divulge the time when your horse accidently finished second."

"Hey!" Cindy cried, punching Jack lightly in the stomach. "That's not fair!"

Jack laughed and turned Cindy around, pointing her to Perfect Sparkle. "You see her? She's your first ride today. Let's go tack her up."

Cindy shook her head. "But, I do have some..."

"Sure you do," Jack said, laughing as he did. "And you can tell me all about them later."

Cindy set her mouth in a line, refusing to laugh. It would only fuel Jack's fire, and the last thing she needed was to encourage the comic of the backside.

Jack led the beautiful bay filly out of her stall and put her in cross ties, grabbing a brush and tossing it to Cindy.

"But, grooms do this, Jack," Cindy said, putting her hands on her hips. "And Sparkle is immaculately clean already."

"Suck it up, Cin," Jack responded, running a brush over the filly's back. Sparkle grunted and turned her head toward him, leaning into the gentle pressure of the bristles on her back. "If I remember correctly, Sparkle nearly ran out from under you the last time you worked her. This calms her down."

Jack looked at Cindy from over the filly's back, raising his eyebrows. "You going to help me out here?"

"Yes," Cindy sighed, walking up and applying the brush to the filly's back, rubbing the bristles into the filly's shimmering bay coat. Sparkle shook her mane and let her head droop, relaxing her ears.

"Hey," Cindy said, a smile spreading across her face. "She does like this."

Jack nodded. "It pays off to spend some time with the horses," he looked down at her. "She'll love you for this later on."

"When did you discover this?" Cindy asked, brushing down the filly's neck in large, gentle swipes.

"I am the assistant trainer," Jack said, laughing at her. "This is practically my home, Cin."

"Right," Cindy smiled, knowing practically all of Lucas' horses were like Jack's children. He and the other assistants took care of them when Lucas was off racing the big names around other tracks.

"Let's get this tack on her," Lucas said, interrupting their brushing session. "We've got to get her out with the first group."

"Okay," Cindy said, backing off as Lucas tacked the filly up.

Once Sparkle was tacked up, Cindy followed Lucas down to the track, watching morning works progress under the dim morning light.

"I just want a calm gallop," Lucas said, stopping the filly by the rail. "Her first three-year-old race won't be for another month, so there is no reason to try to press on the gas just yet."

"Okay," Cindy said, grasping a clump of the filly's black mane and letting Lucas give her a leg up. Perfect Sparkle snorted and collected herself underneath Cindy, lifting her head and pricking her ears at the track. Cindy gathered the reins and urged Sparkle out, tapping the filly's sides and shifting her into a quick trot, warming her up as they bounced down the backstretch. Cindy kept the filly down the middle of the track, letting the faster moving horses speed by on the left. She kept a firm grip on the reins, remembering how the filly had dumped her the last time they had worked together. Sparkle was a jumpy filly, and prone to being easily startled.

"Okay, girl," Cindy murmured, urging the filly to canter. "We're going to go a little faster now."

Sparkle threw her head and lunged into the canter, eagerly pushing the speed as they entered the far turn.

"Whoa," Cindy smiled, feeling the powerful filly plunge and rock, arching her neck proudly as she paraded around the track. Cindy held herself above the filly, smoothly cutting through the freezing air.

Cindy slid the filly into a gallop and leaned forward, keeping the reins taught, feeling the filly's mouth work on the bit, flicking her ears back in concentration as Cindy guided her down the track, heading her back to the gap. There Watchmaker was standing, waiting for her.

The club music was pumping at the loudest volume, making Cindy feel like her heart was being forced to beat to the loud speakers, skipping each time the next note was blasted through the huge, two story building.

"Hey!" Cindy screamed at her friend and former roommate, Laura Parker, another jockey at Belmont Park and Cindy's former roommate before she had found the apartment in Manhattan nearly a year ago. "You want a drink?"

Laura nodded, tossing back her shoulder length brown hair. "Of course! How else can we celebrate Friday?"

"I don't know!" Cindy called over the ear shattering music, shaking her head. "I guess it doesn't really matter. I'm going to California tomorrow with Lucas and his group of horses."

"Watchmaker?" Laura asked, as she approached the bar, requesting a beer.

"Yeah," Cindy called, then turned to ask the bartender for a scotch on the rocks. "I really think he's going to be my ticket to the Derby," Cindy grinned, taking the small glass from the man and tipping him generously.

"Thanks, lady," the man said, pocketing the money. Cindy smiled and turned to Laura, pushing her long blond hair behind her back.

"I can't wait to see what he can to do against some real competition," Cindy said, taking a gulp from her drink. Most people would sip such a beverage, but Cindy had taken a liking to scotch. She felt invincible when she drank it.

Laura swallowed down some of her beer and nodded. "He's a great looking colt, Cindy. I'd give anything to ride him in a stakes race. Imagine riding in the Derby, and winning."

"It's a dream, and one that I plan on turning to reality." Cindy shook her head, laughing as she swallowed another gulp of scotch.

"Watch it, Cindy," Laura warned, eyeing the way Cindy was downing the fiery liquid. "That could do a number on you. And I wouldn't want to fly with a hangover."

Cindy waved her off. "I can handle it."

"Okay," Laura frowned, watching Cindy carefully, sipping at her beer as she did.

Cindy glanced across the club, trying to remember when she had started coming to places like this. She figured it had to have been in L.A., when everything was going wrong and she couldn't find anywhere to release her anger. The clubs all over Los Angeles had received a lot of Cindy McLean's well-earned money the two months she had been riding there.

"Hey," Laura asked, pointing through the crowd. "Isn't that Jack other there?"

Cindy squinted her eyes and finally spotted Jack walking through the crowd.

"Yeah," Cindy said, instantly smiling. The first time she had met Jack was in a bar, and she couldn't help but wonder what his first impression of her had been then.

"Hey girls," he greeted, eyeing Cindy's drink. "Kinda hard stuff to be getting into just before a plane ride, don't you think?"

Cindy shook her head. "Not at all," she smiled and downed the rest.

"Wow, Cindy," Jack said, chuckling at her. "Don't tempt me."

Cindy frowned at him and shook her head. "You are impossible," she stated simply, then asked the bartender for another of the same, which she received promptly. Jack asked for his trademark bourbon, which Cindy had spotted him drinking at many owners parties.

Cindy cocked one eyebrow at him and just laughed, taking a drink as she watched.

"So," Jack said, putting the glass down on the bar. "Let's hear about all these bad memories."

"You're kidding," Cindy said, shaking her head.

"Bad memories?" Laura asked, looking at Jack with a big smile on her face. "Yeah, I'm in the mood for some deep and insightful conversation."

"I don't have bad memories," Cindy insisted, sighing and concentrating on the dancing bodies around her, suddenly shy about telling all her secrets.

"You insisted that you did," Jack reminded her. "I want to hear them."

"Maybe if I get drunk," Cindy stated, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Like I said," Jack replied slyly. "Don't tempt me, Cin."

Cindy grunted and groaned. "Alright, fine."

"Yes!" Laura laughed, scooting closer so she could hear.

"What do you want to know about?" Cindy asked, unsure if she should've gotten herself in this situation.

"Oh, you know," Jack said, leaning down to her and looking at her steadily. "All those horrible Whitebrook memories."

Cindy rolled her eyes and sighed. "There isn't much to say," Cindy said, shaking her head. "It was just a falling out, really."

"Well," Laura shrugged, nudging Cindy's elbow. "What about the juicy details?"

Cindy groaned, shaking her head. There was no way she could relate to them all the times she and Ashleigh had crossed paths, fighting about little things and training problems. Their methods were too different, their actions were on two completely different sides of the spectrum, and when Sammy married Tor, moving away from Whitebrook all together, there wasn't a buffer anymore. It had become all out war. They weren't exactly memories, except for the time with Glory's Joy. That was a memory, but one she would never tell anyone.

"It was just several differences of opinion," Cindy said simply, downing the rest of her drink and shaking her head. "That's all I'm saying."

"That's a let down," Jack said simply.

"Well," Cindy frowned. "I'm sorry. But it was just a lot of arguments. Nothing is really Ashleigh's fault, or mine."

"What about when Ashleigh gave away Wonder's Champion?" Laura asked. "Didn't that hurt a little?"

"Of course," Cindy said. "But, she lost her baby..." Cindy said, drawing off and falling silent.

"Don't want to talk?" Jack asked, looking over at her.

"No," Cindy said, taking in a deep breath, remembering the horror of watching Champion colliding with Ashleigh. It had been like Christina's birth all over again, but that time it had been fatal for the baby.

"Well," Jack said, smiling. "I'll get it out of you later."

"Right," Cindy said, drawing in a shuddering breath and turning around, ordering another drink. Laura looked at her with concern, frowning deeply.

"Take it easy, Cin," she said, grabbing Cindy's arm.

Cindy shook her head and sighed. "I'm tired of thinking about it." And with that she started to drink her third scotch.

"Whoa," Jack said softly, grabbing Cindy before she fell out of the car. Jack had parked in Cindy's favorite spot by the elevators, in the parking garage underneath her apartment building. Cindy thought she could get out of the car without his help, then found out that she couldn't. Jack had left his group of friends and offered to ferry them home. In the back of her mind she was glad she had run into Jack at the club, otherwise she was sure she and Laura probably wouldn't have made it home.

Jack saved her from hitting the smooth concrete. "You okay?"

Cindy nodded numbly, groaning as he lifted her up and set her down on her feet, making her walk forward as he closed the door of his Jaguar.

"I hate alcohol," Cindy muttered, feeling nausea rising up in her stomach as Jack punched the up button for the elevator.

"I know how you feel, Cin," he said, holding her upright as she began to feel worse. Finally, in an act of surprising quickness, she darted for the closest trash can and threw up, hating herself as she did. Jack followed her over and helped her push her long blond hair out of her face, holding it behind her head in his fist.

Cindy groaned when she was finished, closing her eyes. "I think I'm going to pass out," she muttered, letting him lead her back to the elevator, which was sitting open for them.

"You know," he smiled at her. "You're beautiful when you're drunk."

"Shut up," she muttered, finally letting him pick her up when she felt her legs going out underneath her.

The elevator stopped at her floor and he walked out, carrying Cindy, who was sleeping quietly in his arms.

"Keys," he muttered, waking her up.

"Huh?" Cindy asked, looking confused. "Where are we?"

"Outside your apartment," he smiled at her, setting her down and taking her purse, finding her keys easily. He opened the door and led her inside, kicking it shut behind him.

"Let's get you to bed," Jack said, steering Cindy through her apartment, which he had never been to before.

He found the pretty white and blue bedroom and then Cindy stumbled, nearly falling down.

"Damn it," Jack cursed, grabbing her quickly and pulling her up again, scooping her up and carrying her across her bedroom, lightly depositing her on the fluffy bed.

"Ummm," Cindy murmured, feeling the bed under her. She smiled, drunkenly grateful that he had helped her there. "Shoes," she managed to say, smiling at him quietly.

"Right," Jack said, taking her stylish black boots off of her feet, dumping them at the foot of her bed.

"Coat," Cindy said next, rolling over to let him pull the knee length coat off her tiny body. Jack tossed it over the nearest chair and sighed, looking down at her.

Cindy breathed quietly, her hair a complete mess, spreading over the white pillow and getting in her face as she moved.

"Get under the covers," Jack said patiently, pulling the covers back and rolling Cindy into them.

"What about my clothes?" Cindy asked, her eyes closed.

"I think you can worry about those when you wake up," Jack said, squatting next to the bed and looking at her. "You going to be alright?"

Cindy opened her eyes and found him looking at her with concern, his blue eyes dim in the dark apartment.

"You look a lot like my ex-boyfriend," Cindy said, realizing it as she said it, recognizing that look of concern anywhere. Max had stared at her that way every time she started to push herself, coming close to danger.

"Okay," Jack said, smiling. "I think you'll be fine. I'll see you in the morning."

Cindy nodded and snuggled into her bed, "You can let yourself out."

"That was my plan," Jack said, standing up and leaving the room.

Cindy heard a soft click as her bedroom door shut and she breathed deeply, remembering that she had to be at the airport by nine. She didn't know if she could make it.


	6. Reunion

6.

"Reunion"

"Hey, Cindy," Jack said, sitting next to her and smiling quietly. "Are you going to be sick again?"

Cindy shook her head, her eyes still closed as she leaned back peacefully in her plane seat. "No. I don't think so."

"Good," Jack answered. "We're going to land soon, so get ready."

Cindy's eyes snapped open and she looked around her, sitting up quickly. Instantly she felt a stab of nausea spreading through her stomach, rising into her throat. She quickly leaned back again, squeezing her eyes shut.

"In thirty minutes," Jack continued, the smile he sported curling up at the edges of his mouth.

"Ugh, Jack," Cindy groaned, concentrating on her stomach. "What did you do that for?"

"Teach you a lesson," Jack chuckled, shaking his head. "You look horrible."

"Thanks," Cindy said, shooting him a withering look. "It's already embarrassing enough, I don't need you to tell me that."

Jack just smiled again and got up from his seat, heading to the back of the cargo jet to take a look at Watchmaker.

The red chestnut colt was dosing quietly in his padded metal stall, ears jerking lightly at the sounds of Jack's feet hitting the plane floor. Cindy sat up slowly, twisting her head over the seat to watch Jack wake the beautiful colt up, scratching Watchmaker's forehead lightly with his fingers. Watchmaker opened his dark brown eyes sleepily and lifted his head, flicking his ears several times as though he were giving them a test run. Cindy brought herself to smile and, gathering her courage, pushed herself to her feet. She stood stationary for a moment, letting the confusion wear away, and finally made her way over to the colt's stall.

The entire morning had been a wreck. First, Cindy had gotten up late and nearly missed the plane. Then she had stayed in the lavatory for nearly an hour, fighting off urges to be sick. Jack and Lucas offered water and Aspirin, which Cindy had taken eagerly, also downing the Seven Up in the small fridge. Her stomach felt better, but Cindy didn't. She still couldn't believe she had allowed herself to become so far gone the night before. Just looking at Jack made her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Hey honey," Cindy crooned to the red colt, running her clammy hand over the colt's broad forehead, drawing her fingers down the bright white mark that ran down his face. Watchmaker looked at her with interest and nudged her in the side carefully, nibbling at her shirt. Cindy smiled and patted his neck. "Oh, so sweet. Just like your momma."

Watchmaker snorted softly and turned away, looking around him with renewed interest. Cindy sighed and headed back to her seat, glad to see the colt was alright with planes. She didn't think she'd be able to handle a high strung colt on a plane in her condition.

Cindy sat back down next to the window and peered through it, watching as the plane descended out of the clouds and down toward the rugged California landscape, the city of Los Angeles cutting dramatically into the sky. Cindy sighed, remembering how many times she had been to Santa Anita, watching Glory and Shining race to victory. That had been years ago, with Whitebrook Farm and Ashleigh. Now she was here by herself, riding Watchmaker in his first major prep for the Kentucky Derby, without Whitebrook.

"We'll be landing in a few moments," the pilot announced over the plane intercom. "And it looks like rain today, so it may be a little bumpy."

Great, Cindy thought, rolling her eyes silently. She hoped she wouldn't have to run for the bathroom again.

"He's a front runner," Lucas told Cindy two days later in the paddock of Santa Anita. "No matter what, find a way to get him to the front. Gun him if you have to."

Cindy nodded, watching Akota, a dark bay four-year-old colt, walk nervously around the paddock, kicking his heels up and snorting raggedly. Six other colts were rounding the paddock, eyeing each other suspiciously and making trouble for their handlers.

They had only been there one day when Lucas suddenly announced to Cindy that he wanted her to ride Akota, his star older colt, in the Strub Stakes, a grade one event with the biggest colts of the year running. They had barely settled Watchmaker in his stall before Lucas had the dark bay older horse tacked up and ready for Cindy to try out. Now they were in the paddock already, watching the horses make their routine circuits around the walk way, letting the betters get a good look at them.

Cindy brushed off her blue and black silks, the colors for Akota's owners, who stood by her, watching their colt like a hawk. They were old money, Cindy noticed, as was the case with most of the owners she ran for.

"Riders up!" A man shouted, motioning with his clipboard. "Riders up!"

The groom stopped Akota in front of his stall and Lucas gave Cindy a leg up into the saddle, catapulting her into the air. Cindy landed easily in the saddle, immediately feeling for the colt underneath her. Akota raised his white marked face and eyed her, flicking his ears back as she gathered the reins.

"Good luck!" Lucas said enthusiastically, as was his way during races. Lucas never showed many pre-race jitters. He seemed to seep happiness in the paddock. Cindy, on the other hand, was pure business. She listened to his orders, watched the colt, and guided him to the win. That was her job, and she did it well.

Akota seemed perfect under the saddle as Cindy warmed him up in the far turn of the track, feeling for any sign that the colt wouldn't like the mud. It had rained hard the day before, and, Cindy observed, most of the horses around her weren't very keen on the idea of running through the slop. Akota, on the other hand, arched his neck and plowed right through, fighting Cindy for more rein.

"Whoa," Cindy called, pulling Akota up and turning him. The dark bay was going without an outrider, since he usually either hurt the pony or became so worked up with one that he would dump his rider several times before entering the gate. Cindy had watched clips of the colt do this time and time again as a two-year-old, and she was glad Lucas had realized the problem before she was his jockey.

Cindy watched the other colts head back to the gate and she finally signaled Akota to follow, lagging behind deliberately. The bay colt snorted his frustration at going so slow, but Cindy only smiled.

"You'll be going a lot faster here in a minute, boy," Cindy smiled, patting the colt's neck. "Let's hope you don't get any of that dirty mud on your face, okay?"

Akota snorted in response as she stopped him, waiting for her turn to be loaded into the gate.

As she waited, Cindy scanned the rail, picking out faces she thought she could remember from other tracks. Further down, she saw a dark blond haired woman with an expensive camera pressed to her face, taking pictures rapidly. Cindy frowned at her, wishing she could get a good look at the woman's face. She seemed familiar, but then it was her time to load.

Akota squealed eagerly and stepped forward as the handler grasped his bridle, pulling him toward the large metal gate. The colt had never been gate shy, and he walked confidently in, snorting and shaking his head with anticipation. Cindy pulled down her sets of goggles and readied herself. There was only one more horse to load.

A split second after the last gate shut, the starter pressed the button, sending all seven horses out onto the track. Akota plunged forward, with Cindy urging him on with her hands. Cindy grinned, feeling the colt's response. Akota loved the surface. This would be easy. Then, three strides out of the gate, the five horse, Fit to Wonder, who had sped up before Akota, slipped on the sloppy ground, his legs splaying out before him in a desperate effort to stay up. Akota made a strangled sound deep in his throat as Cindy watched in horror. Fit to Wonder fell to his knees, sliding to his side and directly under Akota.

Before Cindy could even react, Akota was suddenly airborne, launching himself above the floundering chestnut colt. Cindy screamed, seeing Fit to Wonder attempt to rise with his jockey crushed underneath him and Akota soaring over the downed colt's head.

The four horse, Mr. Perfect, struck Fit to Wonder hard in the hind quarters, stumbling over the colt and going down, thrashing his legs as he threw his rider over his neck, splashing down into the mud.

But then Akota made contact with the ground, slipping just barely as he got his hind legs underneath him again to push off into another stride, fighting his way to the front.

Cindy could barely register what had happened. Her first impulse was to stop Akota and check for damage, but she knew there would be none. The colt was going on strong like he had before. He was in no distress. Her second impulse was to check on the massive wreck behind her, but she couldn't. If she did at this point in the race disaster could happen again, causing another pile up.

Instead, she pushed her instincts away and rode, guiding Akota to the front of the pack and comfortably letting the colt have his race. Akota ran away easily, putting his competition far behind him.

As Akota rounded the turn, Cindy watched out of the corner of her eye as the track ambulance stopped next to the accident, people swarming around to pull the horses back to their feet. Cindy felt a sickening twinge in her stomach when she realized both horses were still down. She hated that she had to continue with the race.

Akota was leading down the stretch, romping away with the race as the ambulances drove off, carrying their precious cargo. Cindy sat like a rock on the colt's back, nearly numb from the shock. She had to know what happened.

The bay colt started to draw away from the field, sprinting to the wire alone, his victorious plunge for the wire dimmed by the astonished fans. Cindy stood up in the stirrups and looked around her anxiously, pulling Akota up sooner than normal. She had to get back to the grandstand. They would tell her what happened there. She hadn't seen the purple screen up, so at least none of the horses were dead yet. She didn't know what could've happened to the jockeys.

Cindy stopped Akota outside the winner's circle, looking around for Lucas. When she found him, she nearly started to cry, but she forced herself to look calm and cool. She was a professional, and this happened all the time.

"What happened?" She called out as a groom led Akota into the circle.

"No fatalities yet," Lucas said, but his face was grim. "Fit to Wonder's jock has a crushed leg. The other managed to get out of it with only a few bruises. The horses..."

Cindy stared intensely, watching him with wide eyes. "What about the horses?"

"Fit to Wonder got up by himself after some urging, so they think it was just some shock. Mr. Perfect's legs are another story."

Cindy groaned, knowing that they had snapped. She saw how the colt's forelegs had crossed in front of each other as he stumbled over Fit to Wonder's flank. There was no way a horse could survive something like that.

"He was one of Mr. Wonderful's also," Lucas was saying, shaking his head in dismay. "Bad day for racing."

Cindy's head jerked up the mention of the name. She had watched Mr. Wonderful race, becoming a great racer just like his dam, Ashleigh's Wonder. She wondered if the colt had been born at Whitebrook. The cameras flashed and Cindy knew she was probably scowling more deeply than she had ever done before. She had never felt so bad after a race.

"If Akota hadn't jumped over Fit to Wonder," Cindy found herself saying, "he'd probably be heading to surgery also."

"Don't start thinking about that," Lucas instructed her firmly. "That isn't healthy."

"I know," Cindy said, dismounting Akota, giving the colt a final pat on the shoulder as he was led away. "I just can't help it."

"Cindy!" Someone shouted across the winner's circle.

"I don't want to talk to reporters right now," Cindy told Lucas, who nodded his understanding. "I'm going to weigh in."

"Cindy!" The same voice called, a woman's voice. "Hey, Cindy!"

Finally, Cindy groaned and turned around, looking out into the crowd. What she saw made her jaw drop.

"Oh my God!" Cindy cried, spotting Heather fighting the crowd of journalists to get to the winner's circle, an expensive black camera clutched in her hand.

The young woman pushed her way through the chattering reporters and threw her arms around Cindy, hugging her hard.

"What are you doing here?" Cindy asked in astonishment, pushing back so she could get a good look at her old friend.

"When I saw that you were running in the Strub I grabbed my stuff and headed out to LA," Heather cried, laughing wildly. "I need a trip to LA every once and a while anyway."

Cindy shook her head, her mouth still hanging open in shock. "This is amazing," Cindy said, grinning, looking Heather over. Her friend was dressed up casually in jeans and a sweater, her luxurious dark blond hair pulled back in a sophisticated low pony tail, a few strands hanging free around her face.

Heather smiled at Cindy and chuckled again. "I'll tell you what. You get changed and we'll go out to my ranch."

"You've got a ranch?" Cindy asked in astonishment. "Seriously?"

"Doug and I have lived there for nearly four years now," Heather nodded, dead serious. "Outside of Bakersfield, in Wheeler Ridge."

"You're kidding," Cindy said, shaking her head. Then, before Heather could answer, "I will be right back. Wait for me, okay?"

"You bet!" Heather called as Cindy rushed off to the jockey's room, pulling the ties out of her long bright blond hair as she ran.

"So, Rachel is four and Sarah is one?" Cindy asked as Heather drove down the crowded Los Angeles highway, easily navigating the traffic in her Jeep Cherokee.

"Yeah, nearly," Heather nodded. "And I don't think we'll be having more. Doug and I have enough on our hands with those two around."

Cindy smiled. "I'll bet," she agreed, thinking about how anxious she was to meet Heather's two daughters, and to see Doug again, Heather's husband. The two had gotten married about six years ago, and that had been the last time Cindy had seen Heather. Since then her childhood friend had become a world famous equestrian artist, traveling all over the country to paint, sketch, and photograph horses. Her work sold for thousands to enthusiastic horse people around the country. Doug Mellinger was Heather's high school sweetheart who had followed her to California when she went to college. He had gone on to successfully operate his line of hardware stores, which were scattered all around California.

Heather turned off the highway at Wheeler Ridge, driving down past the main part of town to head back into the sparse southern California landscape.

"There's the ranch," Heather pointed out, raising her index finger to a large ranch style house and two barns behind it. "We've got about nineteen acres now," she said to Cindy as they drove into the gravel drive. "Doug and I are looking to buy some more land north of our property for the horses. It's getting cramped."

"How many horses do you have?" Cindy asked, her eyes scanning the ranch, trying to keep her mouth from falling open again. It was astonishing.

"Twenty at the moment," Heather said, smiling. "But we're getting a few new arrivals in a month or so. Five of our mares are about to burst."

Heather parked the car outside the ranch house and jumped out just as Doug opened the door to the house. The older daughter, Rachel, came bursting out after her father, running down the steps to throw her arms around Heather's legs.

"Guess what!" Rachel shouted excitedly. "Daddy let me ride Sunspot all by myself!"

"Really?" Heather asked, smiling at her daughter, then looked up quickly to give Doug a harsh look. He only shrugged and smiled, then turned to Cindy.

"Cindy!" He called, walking up to the car as Cindy jumped down. "It's been a long time," he said as he gave her a hug. "How's the old shoulder holding up?"

"Pretty good," Cindy smiled, remembering back when she had first injured her shoulder in high school. "It still gives me some trouble every now and then."

"Go on inside, Rach," Heather said, pushing her daughter lightly toward the door. "Let me talk to your daddy for a second."

"Okay," Rachel said, leaping up the stairs and running back into the house.

"I thought I told you she wasn't allowed to ride Sunspot by herself yet," Heather told Doug, shaking her head. "That gelding is much to big for her."

Doug shook his head. "She handled him fine," he said, giving her a kiss on the forehead. "Plus I was right there leading them around the ring. It was completely controlled."

"Oh, all right," Heather gave in, sighing. "Is Sarah asleep?"

"Went down about an hour ago," Doug reported, glancing at his watch.

Cindy smiled, watching the interplay between the two, becoming very aware of what had been missing in her life for the past few years.

"Well," Heather put her hands on her hips and smiled at Cindy. "You want to visit the barns?"

"Sure," Cindy nodded, glancing out at the series of paddocks and the two clean barns beyond the house.

"Okay," Heather said, taking Cindy's arm and directing her to the barns. "We'll be back in a little bit," she called to Doug, who nodded, waved, and headed back into the house.

"This place is so beautiful," Cindy said to Heather as they walked into the first barn. She sighed as she smelled that familiar scent of wet earth, hay, and horses. The track didn't have that smell, exactly. It never smelled so earthy, like the farms.

"Thanks," Heather said, walking down the aisle, pointing out the horses. Cindy looked in on each one, noticing that most of them weren't Thoroughbreds.

"Warm bloods?" Cindy asked, looking in on the heavier boned horses. She was so used to seeing the flighty thin Thoroughbreds that seeing a group of different horses seemed odd.

"Yeah," Heather smiled. "Remember, I wasn't so good at handling the hot bloods."

Cindy nodded. "I remember."

"There's Lady," Heather said, pointing out a small dappled gray Welsh Pony. "That's Rachel's horse, and the only one she's been on by herself until today."

Heather rolled her eyes and Cindy laughed, following her friend up to the back yard of the house, where she could see all of Heather's property. A few of the horses were grazing on cubes of hay in their paddocks, ignoring the two women as they talked. They stayed out for a while, looking at all the horses grazing in the pastures. Cindy breathed deeply, remembering how much she liked farm life. Since she had left Whitebrook she had never been back to a farm, and she was surprised to find that she had been yearning for it.

"Let's go inside," Heather suggested. "It's pretty chilly out here."

Cindy nodded and followed Heather in, finding Doug sitting on the couch with Rachel, watching a basketball game.

"Do you ever talk to Laura and Sharon much?" Cindy asked of their high school friends as they sat down in the other room, after grabbing two cups of hot decaffeinated coffee to drink.

"No," Heather said, shaking her head. "I think Laura is up in Michigan, and I think Sharon is still in Lexington. I just lost touch with them after you left."

Then Heather looked hard at Cindy, leaning forward. "When was the last time you were in Lexington?"

"Not since I left after Joy," Cindy said, shrugging. "I don't really miss it."

"Really?" Heather asked, surprised enough to put her coffee down. "I would think that you would miss it."

"Why?" Cindy spat out, not able to control her temper when Whitebrook was concerned. "Ashleigh practically kicked me out, along with Champion..."

"Well, there is that whole thing concerning Joy," Heather started to say, but the look on Cindy's face cut her short.

"I'd rather not talk about that," Cindy replied hoarsely, then she looked down. "I'm sorry, Heather. It's just that Whitebrook and Ashleigh touch a nerve now."

"I understand," Heather nodded. "Believe me."

"I do," Cindy sighed, leaning back and taking a gulp of her coffee. She didn't usually drink the rich brown liquid, but sometimes it was soothing. She took another sip and set the mug down on the glass covered coffee table.

"So," Heather said, picking her mug up again. "You're a world famous jockey. What else have you been up to?"

"What do you mean?" Cindy asked, feigning innocence.

"I mean," Heather smiled wickedly. "Has any young fellow caught your interest?"

Cindy laughed and shook her head. "No, Heather."

"Really?" Heather said, whining. "No one at all since that Ben guy?"

"Ben?" Cindy frowned, remembering her sudden relationship that she had fallen into after Max had broken up with her. That had been in Arabia - her first chance as a jockey.

"Yeah," Heather said. "Ben. The rebound guy."

"Oh, come on, Heather," Cindy said, giggling until her eyes sparkled. "We all know Ben was probably a mistake, and no, there hasn't been anyone serious after him."

The last part was partially a lie. There had been other relationships. Two that Cindy would have considered serious had they not ended in balls of flame. They had been all too short and far to difficult to manage. Laura called them summer flings, but Cindy didn't like to think of herself like that. Then, of course, there were those fleeting moments with Jack that Cindy had preferred to forget.

"Wow," Heather breathed, sitting forward. "That's a long time."

"No it isn't," Cindy shook her head, telling her lie like a master. "And besides, romance isn't everything to me. You know jockeying came before all else."

"I know," Heather nodded. "Max knew that, too."

Cindy nodded and sat back. There wasn't much use dredging up the past, but Heather was right. Max had lived with Cindy's obsessiveness over her career, even when they were both still teenagers. The strain got harder as they got older, and Cindy entered into more races, becoming so involved with them that she forgot his existence outside the track.

Cindy didn't blame Max when he started to feel like he was playing second fiddle to her riding. She knew she was putting him second to her budding career, and she hadn't minded doing it at the time. He knew that, and it made him mad. Then, of course, there was Ben. So Max broke up with her days before she left for Dubai. They hadn't spoken since.

"He's in California, too," Heather offered, giving Cindy a smile. "He comes by every now and then. I'll tell him you're around for a little bit."

"Don't," Cindy said, shaking her head. "It would be to hard to see him again. I'll be here for a while, and I don't really want to see him."

"I understand," Heather shrugged, turning around as Doug brought Sarah into the room.

"Thought you may want to see her," Doug said, stepping over to Cindy and depositing the ten-month-old Sarah in her lap. Cindy automatically wrapped her arms around the young girl, holding her to her chest as the baby moved sleepily, just coming out of her nap. She could feel the young girl's small fingers digging into her arms, trying to lift herself up to look at who was holding her.

Cindy had no explanation for it, but her eyes began to tear up and she found herself blinking rapidly to stop the salty tears from flowing down her face. The young girl squirmed in her arms as Cindy held on to her tighter, not wanting to let go.

"Here, Cindy," Heather said calmly, taking Sarah from her arms and handing her back to Doug. "I'll get you a Kleenex."

"No," Cindy shook her head, sniffing. "My eyes are just watering. I've got something in my eye."

Heather stopped and looked at Cindy for a long moment, Cindy looked back sadly, wiping away the tears that started to flow down her cheeks.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Heather asked, touching Cindy lightly on the arm, trying to ease her friend's jarred nerves.

"Yes," Cindy nodded, unsure if she could face her empty hotel room alone once more.


	7. Cold Rivalries

7.

"Cold Rivalries"

Cindy leaned against the white plastic railing, watching the colts and fillies working out around the track, prancing by on slender, earth toned legs. It was still in the quiet moment of morning, just before dawn, and Cindy could see her breath drift around her face, condensing as she exhaled.

She loved Santa Anita. Everything about it astonished her. The sheer beauty of the track against the California landscape set her in awe, made her understand why she had hated leaving this place, even if nothing had seemed to go right for her here.

"Hey, Cin," Jack greeted, ambling up to the track rail, leaning next to her, bending his tall frame almost ridiculously low so he could look at her eye to eye.

"Hi, Jack," Cindy said, giving him a smile. "Have you heard anything about Mr. Perfect?"

Jack's handsome face immediately darkened. Since Cindy had just recently come back from Wheeler Ridge, she didn't know anything about Mr. Perfect since the race. Thinking about the wreck made Cindy's skin crawl, but knowing that a horse may die made it all the worse.

"He made it through surgery," Jack frowned, shaking his head. "But it doesn't look good. He still has yet to wake up. I'm sure we'll know sometime in the next few hours if the colt is going to take to his cast or not."

"What was the break?" Cindy asked, watching a chestnut colt power around the turn, stretching out in the homestretch, reaching for the wire with all he had.

"Bad," Jack grunted, looking down at his perpetually tanned hands. "Both his legs are broken, the right worse than the left, but still..."

Cindy shook her head, listening as Jack trailed off, reaching up to rub a hand through his thick black hair. "You did a good job, Cindy," Jack said, giving the young jockey a smile. "Believe me."

"Thanks," Cindy smiled. Thinking about the downed horses made her sick, but she knew that it was a part of racing, something she had come to bitterly accept over the years.

"Ready to roll, Cindy?" Lucas called behind her, leading Watchmaker up to the gap.

"Yes," Cindy said, sure of herself. The big red chestnut colt pranced up to the gap, his ears playing energetically. Cindy grinned up at him, watching the beautiful horse impose himself above her, arching his neck proudly as he surveyed the track ahead of him. The San Vicente Stakes was rolling around the corner fast, and Lucas was planning on getting another breeze in before then.

"Five furlongs," Lucas boomed, lifting Cindy into the saddle with ease. "End it at the wire, as always," he instructed, giving Watchmaker's scarlet neck a good pat.

Cindy settled in the saddle and pushed her feet firmly in the stirrups. While Watchmaker was generally gentle on the track he had his moments, nearly unseating Cindy the day before. Cindy had a suspicion that this behavior was inherited from his sire. Shining had never attempted anything like that with her, and Cindy had practically learned how to ride on that mare's back.

"Right," Cindy nodded, turning the chestnut around and heading him out to the track, going through their warm up circuits. Press reporters were gathered up and down the rail, watching the colts for the weekend's San Vicente. Several of the most recent Derby winners had come from Santa Anita, especially the San Vicente Stakes, so much of the press had assembled to watch the works, handicapping the race as best they could through their notes and knowledge of past performances. Cindy knew Watchmaker was being held at high esteem with his run away win in his very first race the month before. She caught several reporters following her as she completed her second circuit around the track, letting the colt out inch by inch.

Watchmaker shook his fiery mane, lunging out suddenly to get Cindy's attention, bobbing his head harshly. Cindy stayed put, feeling the colt's muscles bunch and release underneath her as the colt let out a series of small bucks down the track, testing Cindy's patience once again.

"What happened to that gentleman, huh?" Cindy asked the red colt, letting him slide into a slow gallop, suddenly feeling the colt shift into a high gear, watching the colt's ears flick back in automatic concentration.

"There he is," Cindy smiled, resting a hand on the colt's neck as he ran, upping his speed gradually as Cindy pointed him to the beginning marker, watching the wooden pole streak toward them.

In a blur, Watchmaker passed it, Cindy leveling herself over the colt's withers and giving him rein. The red colt knew the signal and flattened out himself, speeding down the track, pressing so close to the rail that Cindy could feel her chaps skimming along the white plastic tubes.

Watchmaker ground his teeth over the bit, yanking his head down to gather more momentum, catapulting himself around the far turn, his slender legs churning through the well-tilled dirt on the inside of the track. Cindy reached forward, urging the colt on, wanting him to put forward his best for the reporters, who each stood with a stop watch, flicking their eyes from the horse to their clocks.

"That's it," Cindy whispered, feeling her words whipping behind her with the wind. "Let's go, boy!"

She shouted to the colt as he plunged into the homestretch, streaking down the track, passing by slower horses on the outside, running nearly uncontrolled down to the wire. Cindy patted the colt twice on his shoulder with her hand and immediately felt a release of new, raw energy, causing the colt to surge forward, bursting past the finish with wild force, protesting as Cindy stood in the stirrups, slowing him down.

"Oh my God!" Cindy cried as soon as she got the colt down to a controlled trot, patting Watchmaker's sweaty neck with a gleeful look on her face. "That was fantastic!"

When she looked up she could see Jack's face, a flashing grin settled there. He laughed and patted Lucas on the back, who looked like he might burst.

"Fifty-nine flat!" Lucas shouted as Cindy brought the trembling Watchmaker to a stop in front of him. "Flat! I can't believe me eyes. This is going to be the work of the day!"

Cindy laughed out loud and reached down, hugging Watchmaker as Jack checked the colt's legs, running his skilled hands over each, coming up with nothing.

"He's perfect," Jack said, looking up at the colt and shaking his head. "Just like Red Army."

"Just like Shining, you mean," Cindy corrected him, jumping off the colt's back and handing the horse off to his groom.

"Just like them both," Jack said, nodding. "Fifty-nine. And here I'd thought Townsend King's time would be the best of the day."

"Townsend King?" Cindy asked, turning to look up at Jack. Her eyes had been all over Watchmaker, following the colt as he was led up to the barn. She couldn't believe her good fortune. To be riding a horse like that toward the Kentucky Derby was something she still couldn't quite believe.

"Yeah," Jack said, looking over at Cindy as though she had just grown two heads. "The Townsend King who came in a close third in the Breeders' Cup Juvy last year," he summed up, looking at Cindy with laughing eyes. "He smashed a race record here about a month ago in the San Miguel Stakes. Townsend Acres is heading him to the Derby."

"I knew that," Cindy said, shaking her head. "I just haven't seen the Townsend's around lately, and even Townsend King."

"They're stabled in barn 18," Jack shrugged, "if you so want to see them."

Cindy frowned, finding a small part of her that did really want to go take a look at the Townsend horse. Lately it seemed that Townsend Acres had been dropping out of view, their horses less than stakes material. Cindy knew of Townsend King, and she knew that the gray colt had the ability to shatter time like a glass window. The colt had crashed through the San Miguel field as though they were standing still, breaking the record by a little over a second. Cindy wanted to see this colt up close. She wanted to know what Watchmaker was up against, even if it was Townsend Acres, Whitebrook's arch nemesis, and her own.

"Yeah," Cindy said suddenly, pushing away from the rail and heading down to the block of barns. She could hear Jack jogging to catch up with her, sensing a story.

"Why Townsend King, Cin?" Jack asked, slowing next to her as Cindy stalked by the row of barns. Counting down to 18.

"I just want to see what all this fuss is about," Cindy explained, shrugging, stopping outside barn 18. "How fast did he go this morning?"

"A minute and change," Jack reported, looking down the dark aisle. "He's an impressive one."

"I'll bet," Cindy retorted, straightening her shoulders and taking a step inside. She walked down the aisle until she found the gray, looking into his stall.

The gray colt lifted his head and regarded Cindy without interest, flicking his small ears at her calmly. The colt's gray coat shimmered in the dim barn light, glowing a soft silver, like Glory.

"He's a beauty," Cindy admitted grudgingly, wishing Townsend King didn't have to remind her of the gray Whitebrook champion. The colt took a step in their direction, leaning his head lazily against his stall door. Cindy scratched his forehead gently and sighed.

"Barbero's grandson," she said, knowing the colt's pedigree as well as she knew Watchmaker's. "By Bero out of Townsend Silver. A good match, I would say."

Jack stood behind her, watching the gray with quiet eyes. "Have you had enough?"

"Almost," Cindy answered, realizing just how much the colt looked like Glory. He was almost a dead ringer for him, but maybe slightly smaller, with more of a tapered muzzle.

"Cindy," a deep voice cut through the still air. "Here I thought I wouldn't run into you."

Cindy jumped, recognizing that voice instantly. She turned and saw a tall man walking up to her, obviously aged, but with much of the same sophisticated good looks as before. It was Brad Townsend, heir to Townsend Acres.

"Hello, Brad," Cindy said, clenching her teeth secretly, refusing to take a step away from Townsend King's stall. She would stand her ground this time.

"Had to get a good look at King?" Brad asked, a sardonic smile playing around his mouth.

"More or less," Cindy shrugged, watching the gray colt back into his stall again, heading to his water bucket to suck down a few mouthfuls of cool water.

"I suppose you saw his time today," Brad said, his smile becoming more apparent. "The best on the track."

"Actually," Cindy smiled smugly, "I didn't. I was up on Watchmaker."

Brad nodded silently. "What was his time?"

"Fifty-nine flat," Cindy said, watching Brad's reaction, gauging it expertly.

Brad's face tightened and shook his head. "Too fast of a work for a race four days away," he said shortly, looking at Townsend King with hard eyes. "He'll be burned out on race day."

"I guess we'll see," Cindy said, smiling and excusing herself, grabbing Jack as she left Brad Townsend glaring after her.

"If I didn't know better, which I do," Jack shook his head. "I'd think you were baiting him."

"I've waited a long time to put Brad Townsend in his place," Cindy said, grinning at Jack. "After years of the junk he's put me through he deserves everything I throw at him."

"Last time he ran up on the lead and held it," Lucas said to Cindy in the paddock a few days later. "I think this time we're going to have to hold him back more. This is a furlong longer than the last time."

Cindy nodded, watching as Watchmaker was led around the paddock of Santa Anita, tossing his finely shaped head and snorting energetically, dancing on his toes.

"Okay," she said finally, pulling her gaze from the well made chestnut. "I'll pull him back a little."

"Good," Lucas nodded, watching the horses amble around the track, a few acting up in front of the large crowds. Cindy noticed with a sigh of relief that Watchmaker seemed to be indifferent to them, only casting an ear in the crowd's direction, calmly turning his head away.

"Riders up!" Came the call, alerting Cindy to attention. Watchmaker was led up to her and Lucas gave her a leg up, pausing to pat the colt's flank.

"Just keep him out of trouble," Lucas reiterated, looking at Cindy intensely. "You know Townsend King is going to break fast. No early speed duels."

"Got it," Cindy nodded, fastening her helmet and letting the handler lead them away, heading for the track in the seven horse race.

Watchmaker pranced confidently behind Fallsway, a dark bay colt with almost no racing record. The colt was already breaking out into a nervous sweat, darkening his bay coat around his chest and neck. Cindy sat tall in Watchmaker's saddle, keeping a calm hand on the colt's shoulder as another colt, a chestnut named High Man, reared and struck out at his lead, nearly hitting his head on the tunnel ceiling to the track. Watchmaker skittered on his long legs, snorting suddenly at High Man, who wheeled, carrying his groom with him, his eyes rolling in his head.

"Whoa!" Cindy called, watching several more assistants rush up to help push High Man onto the track. Watchmaker's groom held the colt back for several seconds, watching as High Man snorted and plunged out onto the track, causing the crowd to ripple, murmuring about the colt. High Man settled down and began to prance next to his lead pony, finally allowing Watchmaker to step forward, his brilliant red coat gleaming as the sun poured down.

The colt arched his neck as he was handed off to a lead pony, taking off into a floating trot next to the aging palomino gelding. Cindy glanced behind her, warily looking over the rest of the field. It would be a challenging race, she finally decided, turning back around to focus on her horse. Townsend King would be sent straight to the lead, setting shattering fractions as he went. The other colts, Glitter Boy and Michael, won the Belmont Futurity and the Champagne Stakes respectively at two. Then there was the major player, the Eclipse award winner for best two-year-old male, Countdown. The smallish bay horse had won the Sanford Stakes, Hopeful Stakes, and the Breeders' Cup Juvenile by considerable margins the year before. Cindy still didn't know what to think of him, since it was common knowledge that most two-year-old champions floundered at three. What she did know was that he too would try to break fast and lead the field.

Watchmaker shook his deep red mane, grunting eagerly as the out rider picked up the pace, warming up in the first turn. The race was only seven furlongs, so the starting gate was placed near the backstretch, where the horses would load and break.

Cindy rose in the stirrups, feeling the chestnut colt bound into an easy gallop, warming up along the backstretch, shaking his head with anticipation. He wasn't the favorite in the race - Countdown was - but he clearly thought he was. The colt walked as though he knew crushing the competition would be a piece of cake.

Cindy slowed the colt and let the out rider turn him, heading toward the starting gate. Watchmaker tossed his head, plunging away from the pony, throwing his body about like a small tornado. Cindy stayed on, shushing the colt as they approached the gate.

Fallsway loaded perfectly, followed by High Man, who surprisingly didn't put up a fight. Cindy found herself and Watchmaker loading next, the assistant starter grabbing the colt's bridle and leading them into stall three.

Watchmaker stood like a rock, pricking his ears at the track with innocent interest. Townsend King, Glitter Boy, and Michael loaded without a hitch, filing into line easily, letting out quick snorts of suspicion, occasionally squealing with fright as Countdown loaded the gate, bumping and screeching his metal shod hooves against the gate.

Just as the doors shut on Countdown, the bell rang and all seven doors slammed open, stunning all the horses for just a split second before they came roaring out to the approving cries of the crowd.

Watchmaker needed no urging from Cindy. The red colt reared and plunged out of the gate, using his massive, huge strides to carry him forward, thrusting his body to the front.

Cindy urged him on, pumping her hands, guiding the colt to the front and on the rail, finding herself the victor easily, putting away Countdown easily. Cindy grinned, but before she could congratulate herself, she saw Townsend King's gray head appear to her right, bearing down suddenly, and fast.

"A little more, boy," Cindy called, letting the colt out another notch, trying to keep Townsend King at bay. She knew Watchmaker was going to have to pull off some fast fractions to keep Townsend King off of him. Cindy watched desperately as the gray colt pulled along side her, striding easily to the front, a half length ahead of Watchmaker, beginning to set fast fractions.

Watchmaker recovered quickly from his sudden loss of the lead. The colt's ears flattened and he seemed to bear down, forgetting Cindy even existed on his back. The chestnut colt fought back, drawing even with the gray once again, leaving the rest of the field in their great power struggle.

Cindy could hear the fans raucous roars as the field entered the far turn, the only turn in the race. Watchmaker bore down, digging in on the rail and speeding next to Townsend King, who seemed to only grow stronger with the prospect of the speed duel. Cindy knew that Michael and Fallsway were coming on strongly. The race was already spilling into the homestretch, and Countdown still had to make his move, if he wasn't blown off his feet from the beginning.

At the quarter mile pole, Cindy let Watchmaker have his head, yelling to the colt, feeling the red horse shift gears and leads, streaking to the wire like a scarlet blur, pulling away from Townsend King. But the gray wasn't done yet.

Cindy looked behind her to see the gray's jockey going for the whip. Soon Townsend King was drawing even again, snorting wildly and eyeing Watchmaker with a white-ringed eye, galloping toward the finish. Cindy could hear another horse closing in, a light bay, obviously Countdown. The young champion was bearing down, making up ground like an automotive, churning down the middle of the track.

Cindy pumped her arms, feeling her heart rising into the middle of her throat. She had to win this race. Watchmaker was going to win, and he was going to be nominated to the Triple Crown.

Cindy screamed to the colt, kneading her hands along Watchmaker's neck, pulling out the crop and flicking it past his eye, giving him the universal command for more speed. Watchmaker dug down and lunged forward again, pushing his nose ahead of Townsend King's, hauling Cindy toward the wire with all he could give.

Cindy worked on the colt, watching the wire speed toward them. Countdown wasn't tiring either, drawing along Townsend King's right side, sticking his nose forward to be included. Then they crossed the wire.

Cindy was immediately standing in the stirrups, glancing back at the toteboard quickly. Photo flashed across the board. Hold tickets.

"Nice race," the jockey of Townsend King offered, shooting Cindy a smile. Cindy smiled back calmly, hiding the nerves throbbing in her throat. That had been too close. As she rode Watchmaker back to the Grandstand she looked back up at the toteboard, searching for the finishing time.

Her jaw dropped. There, flashing in sync with photo, was the race time, clearly showing that the track record had been broken by just less than a second. Watchmaker shook his damp mane, coming to a trembling stop at the Grandstand, watching the throngs with tired brown eyes.

"Crap, Cindy," Jack called, pushing his way up to Watchmaker, taking the colt's bridle and looking up at her. "That was amazing."

"A little off Lucas's plans," Cindy shook her head. "A new track record?"

"Do you think we got it?" Jack asked, leading Watchmaker away from the fans, keeping the sweaty colt moving.

"Maybe," Cindy said, looking around her, watching the television cameras zooming in on her and the chestnut colt. "I think Countdown may have had it."

Suddenly the crowd groaned, a ripple effect waving through the stands. Cindy twisted around in the saddle and grinned. There was the number three on top of them all.

"We got it!" Cindy shouted, jumping off of Watchmaker as soon as Jack led him into the winner's circle, practically landing on the smartly dressed, young assistant trainer. She wrapped her arms around Jack's neck and planted a victorious kiss on his check, then spun to wrap her arms around Watchmaker.

"Guess I shouldn't feel too special," Jack laughed, patting the colt and watching Cindy rain kisses all over Watchmaker's dark red nose. Cindy gave him a look and finished kissing the colt, smiling wide.

Lucas fought his way into the winner's circle and received a kiss from Cindy, who triumphantly bounded back up to the horse, Jack giving her a leg up for the picture. The Dearharts filed in, pride beaming off their faces.

"What's next?" One reporter shouted, pushing closer. "Is he headed to the Derby?"

"Definitely!" Mr. Dearhart boomed, putting his arm around his wife and another hand on Watchmaker's shoulder. "Provided he's nominated."

"Don't worry about that," Lucas laughed cheerily, holding the horse as Cindy jumped off, a grin plastered to her face. "Once a San Vicente winner, Triple Crown nominations follow. We'll be heading to the San Felipe next."

Cindy beamed and raised a victorious fist in the air. "San Felipe here we come!"


	8. End of Winter

8.

"End of Winter"

"And down the stretch they come!"

Cindy sat in her chair, eyes glued to the television, watching the digital projections of the horses critically, predicting their moves before they made them.

Cherokee Pride was in front, the big gray powering down the stretch with his front running style, cruising on the shallow Gulfstream track. The fast track allowed front running horses to run to easy victories, leaving their competitors in the dust. Cherokee Pride had two lengths on his competition, becoming winded, but still managing to pull away.

"Cherokee Pride is searching for another wind, but Factory Line is moving on the inside. And here comes Russian Winter!"

Cindy's eyes immediately darted to the side of the screen, filtering through the other horses as she caught a glance of white and blue stream through the scene on a bay colt. The Thoroughbred was extended in his largest stride, massive neck bobbing up and down, drawing himself up to deliver the death blow to his opponents. The tall bay thundered behind Cherokee Pride, moving easily around.

"Cherokee Pride is faltering now...Russian Winter is coming on strongly on the outside!"

Cindy's mouth tightened into a firm line, her fingers gripping the remote control in her hands. She had taped the race from later on in the day, since she had been at the track for the Fountain of Youth post time, away from the televisions. She knew who won, and it hadn't surprised Cindy in the slightest.

Her eyes followed the bay as he easily strode past the faltering Factory Line, drawing even with Cherokee Pride, sticking his head in front. The bay colt's jockey urged him on with her hands, pumping ferociously, raising the crop to his eye, flapping it next to him smoothly.

"Cherokee Pride is holding on..."

Russian Winter suddenly gunned forward, using the remaining strength he had to push past the gray, shoving his diamond-marked head in front of the other colt.

Then the wire slipped soundlessly over them, drawing both jockeys up in the saddles, pulling their mounts back down to a slow gallop.

"And Ashleigh Griffen has yet again jockeyed herself to another victory!" The announcer proclaimed as the camera zoomed in on the beautiful bay and the older woman pulling him down to a professional trot, bits of her straight brown hair hanging out of place under her helmet. Ashleigh pushed them away carelessly, a huge grin on her face. She leaned down and gave the colt a few friendly slaps on the neck, turning to talk to the outrider that came to get her.

Keeping the VCR running as the tape went into a commercial, Cindy got up to find a notepad and pen. She found one in the hotel desk drawer and went back to her chair, writing down slowly: "Russian Winter: Comes from behind, will most likely go to the outside. Cherokee Pride: front runner, may have staying power."

When the race came back on television, it showed a few clips of Russian Winter being led into the winner's circle, Ashleigh giving her fans warm thank you's and cheerful smiles. Cindy spotted Mike, Ashleigh's husband, and her own father, Ian McLean, waiting for the colt, grins on their faces. Next to them was a girl she thought must be Ashleigh's daughter, Christina. Cindy smiled unconsciously. The little girl had definitely grown up.

After the pictures were taken, a reporter waved Ashleigh over to talk one on one. Ashleigh kindly obliged and stepped aside as a groom Cindy didn't recognize led Russian Winter back out to the track, pausing as several attendants threw buckets of water on the horse's back and chest, steam rising up automatically from the hot colt's back.

"That was a fantastic race, Ashleigh," the reporter began. "When in the race would you say you had it won?"

"Definitely the quarter mile pole," Ashleigh said, putting her hands on her hips grinning, talking into the microphone. "He really gave me his all there. I knew he still had a lot left and I let him go. He ran his own race today."

"And what are you heading him to next?"

"The Florida Derby," Ashleigh answered quickly. "And after that, if everything goes well, he'll be going to the Blue Grass at Keeneland."

"Thank you," the reporter nodded, turning back to the camera as Ashleigh slipped off to the jockey's room. "There you have it," the reporter continued. "Ashleigh Griffen and Russian Winter, the winners of the Fountain of Youth here at Gulfstream..."

Cindy shook her head and turned off the television and VCR, leaning back until she was stretched out on her bed, eyes closed. She ran the race over in her head, thinking about the tall bay coming from behind. It was a startling move, one that Cindy enjoyed to watch and ride, feeling that sudden rush of power, but it was hard to gauge. To ride it, the jockey had to have a precise understanding of pace and time. Without it, the horse would surely be lost, giving their all at the wrong time, losing momentum in the stretch or not gaining soon enough to deliver that fatal blow. It was tricky, and Cindy knew Ashleigh could do it expertly.

A knock on the door shook Cindy from her thoughts, making her open her eyes.

"Hold on," Cindy called, pushing herself off the bed, heading to the door. When she opened it, she groaned.

"Nice to see you, too," Jack joked, walking in as Cindy opened the door all the way.

"I'm sorry," Cindy apologized quickly. "I just forgot all about it."

"Cin," Jack laughed, turning to brush his hands over his tailored suit. "How can you forget the Eclipse Awards? You and Lucas are nominated."

"I know," Cindy shook her head, walking over to the closet. She pulled out a black dress and tossed it on the bed, turning around to hunt for her black dress shoes. "Now if I can find those shoes," she added under her breath, getting down on all fours to take a look at the closet floor. She knew she had thrown them in there a week ago.

"You know," Jack continued, his voice teasing her. "Best jockey and best trainer. Brushed Black is up for a best sprinter award..."

"I know, I know!" Cindy cried, finding her shoes and holding them up like a trophy, a victorious look on her face. "Found them!"

Jack laughed as Cindy's smile turned to a frown. She lifted a finger at him and pointed. "You," she said threateningly, arching an ominous eyebrow. "Out."

"Yes, Ma'am," Jack grinned, walking up to the door. "Shame though," he muttered, turning around to catch another glimpse of Cindy's small figure as she shoved him out the door, locking it behind him. She could hear another deep laugh from behind the door, and she smiled in spite of herself.

She turned around and spotted the black dress on the bed. Cursing herself loudly, she rushed to the bed, grabbing the plastic covered dress and ripping it off the hanger.

As she dressed, Cindy could remember each time she went to the Eclipse awards with Whitebrook, watching Ashleigh receive numerous awards for the outstanding jockey, breeder, and owner. After a while, it seemed like Whitebrook was unstoppable. March to Glory, Shining, Wonder's Champion, Honor Bright, and Lucky Chance all winning awards while she was there, taking over the categories.

But now it was her turn, Cindy thought, smoothing the sheer panty hose over her short, athletic legs and turning to her dress, slipping it on over her head. The dress was a simple cut in the front, scooping just low enough at the collar, but in the back it was a complicated system of small straps, crossing to make a geometric design across her pale skin.

Cindy looked up into the mirror and sighed at her long blond hair. Sometimes she missed having the short bob from her childhood, especially now that she hated dealing with her hair and formal events. She decided to leave it down, brushing it out until it hung in flowing tresses. She grabbed half of it and twisted it back, holding the thick blond hair in a sophisticated barrette.

"Hey," she heard Jack call through the door. "Are you ready yet or still primping?"

"Oh," Cindy ran up to the door, black skirts flowing behind her. She undid the lock and opened the door, giving Jack a grin. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"No problem," he chuckled, surveying her sudden change in appearance, settling his gaze on her bare feet. "That's kind of primitive, Cindy," he pointed out, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, shut up, Jack," Cindy laughed, whisking away to grab her earrings and necklace. She easily slid the dangling earrings into place, but she couldn't quite get the necklace to clasp, letting out a frustrated sigh at the mirror.

"Let me," Jack said, grabbing the necklace before Cindy had time to protest. "Enough with the sighing already."

Cindy laughed softly as she looked at him in the mirror, his tall figure standing behind her, head bowed in concentration. He pushed her hair out of the way and swung the necklace in front of her, the small piece of silver glinting in the hotel lights. With one hand burrowed through Cindy's thick blond hair, and the other working nimbly, Jack had the necklace clasped faster than Cindy had expected. She soon found herself looking straight into his bright blue eyes, staring into the mirror, not able to move.

"All set?" He asked to her reflection.

She stared at the reflection of his dark blue eyes in the mirror, remembering on what they had agreed on long ago. At the thought of that perfect Florida night her eyes darted down, feeling hot at the memory of her feet dancing through wet sand and Jack's hands then as well as now when he untangled them from her golden hair.

Cindy blinked twice, forcing her memories to subside, and turned around, craning her neck to look up at him. "My shoes," she said, giving him a shaky smile. She slipped past him, noticing heat rising into her cheeks. She grabbed the shoes and slipped them on, making sure they weren't scuffed from the hectic plane ride.

"Okay," he said, giving her one of his precious smiles. "Lets get out of here."

Cindy sat in the limo, a champagne flute in her hand as she watched the bright Los Angeles lights slide over the black car, reflecting off the tinted glass, shining through the flute and the pale liquid it contained. Next to Cindy sat other friends from the Santa Anita track, people she hadn't talked to in years, but had decided to go to the Eclipse Awards.

"In a daze, Cin?" Connie Taylor asked, grinning at Cindy and nudging her arm.

"Hum?" Cindy muttered, looking up. "Oh, no. I was just thinking, that's all."

"Oh, just thinking," Connie shook her head, taking a sip of her champagne. "You're a complex one, Ms. McLean."

"No," Cindy insisted, smiling. "I'm just nervous, I guess. I've never been nominated for an Eclipse award before."

"You should've been a long time ago," Richard Batson called from across the limo, lifting his glass to Cindy. "When you won the Dubai World Cup, that was a moment for Eclipse considerations."

"I was barely even 17!" Cindy laughed, drinking with him, lifting the light glass to her painted lips.

"Still, that was a moment when a star had been born," Richard said as several people around him nodded in agreement. All save Jack. He was leaning back in the limo bench seat across from her, regarding Cindy with a look of amusement on his face, his champagne glass forgotten in his hand.

Cindy remembered when many people hadn't thought that win in the Dubai World Cup could give any credit to her name. Bitterly, she remembered Ben's father insisting that Champion had won in spite of her when she worked for him, and, to Cindy's shock, she and encountered more of those same opinions when she had returned to race in America. She partly blamed her rocky beginnings on that race in the United Arab Emirates.

The limo pulled into the drive of The Plaza, where the awards were being held that year. When Cindy got out of the stretch limousine, she instantly remembered it from when Glory had won his awards, when Ashleigh had been so mad at her. She still couldn't believe that whole year, Glory's sudden injury, In Shadows' immediate fame. It had been almost too much to take at once.

"We have arrived in style," Jack murmured into her ear as he passed, opening the door for her and the rest of the group. Cindy showed her invitation to the guard stationed at the door. The tall man barely glanced at it and waved her on through, pointing to the second floor, where most of the large convention halls were.

It was so familiar, Cindy remembered, watching the swans ruffle their feathers in the artificial stream running through the ground floor of the hotel. The water was running over polished stones, bubbling up in the tiny waterfalls.

"Hey, Cindy," Jack murmured, nudging her gently. "You caught up in a day dream?"

"Yeah," Cindy said quietly, turning around to look up at him as the escalator carried them to the second floor. "I was just thinking of when Glory won his awards. We came to this very place."

"How old were you?" Jack asked, stepping off the escalator with Cindy, who lifted her flowing dress so she wouldn't trip.

"Barely fourteen," Cindy smiled, remembering how happy she'd been when her beautiful gray colt had won Horse of the Year. She remembered putting that gold statue of Eclipse right next to the one Wonder's Pride had received, polishing both until they gleamed a brilliant yellow. They were probably still in Ashleigh's office, sitting proudly next to each other in the display cases.

"Long time ago," Jack commented, walking into the convention hall with Lucas, Cindy on their heels. "Ashleigh Griffen won outstanding jockey that year, didn't she?"

"No," Cindy shook her head, remembering it vividly. "Roan O'Connell did."

Ashleigh and Roan had been two of the first big time pioneers for women jockeys in Thoroughbred racing. Both women had won numerous stakes events, accumulating enough fame to become the top jockeys in their sport while in their prime. Cindy aimed to be just like them, and tonight was her first chance. She had been nominated for outstanding jockey, just like Ashleigh and Roan before her.

They found their table easily, up near the front, closest to the podium. Cindy breathed a sigh of relief, noting that if she was named the winner she wouldn't have to walk far. She had visions in her mind of tripping over her dress and landing on her face, completely ruining the moment she had been working toward for ten years.

Jack pulled out her chair, giving her a quiet smile as she accepted it, sitting down and letting him push her up to the table. She gave him a thank you as he sat down next to her, looking around the other tables.

Cindy could spot people she had been working with for years, individual jockeys, trainers, and owners, some sitting together to represent a horse that was nominated. She spotted several farm representatives, recognizing faces she hadn't seen in years suddenly appearing at the Eclipse Awards.

When she turned to scan the other side of the room her gaze immediately fell on the curly red hair of Roan O'Connell, the small woman sitting next to her husband and what must be her daughter. Roan spotted her and waved, grinning casually. Cindy waved back, remembering when Ashleigh had bred Wonder to Roan's famous stallion, Dominion. The great black stud was still going strong, the last Cindy had heard, still covering half of a normal book of mares.

Cindy was acutely aware that no one from Whitebrook was there. She knew the farm hadn't had a star horse last year, so the fact that they hadn't come to the awards didn't shock Cindy.

When the dinner came, Cindy talked exuberantly with the rest of the people at her table, barely touching her food. When the lights died down, announcing the beginning of the awards, Cindy was actually disappointed, but her heart began to beat faster, knowing that the jockey awards was one of the first presented.

"Good evening," the president of the National Thoroughbred Racing Association announced, standing at the podium, a large statue for Horse of the Year projected on a screen behind him.

People began to quiet down, clinks of silver on china becoming less frequent as the man before them began to speak.

"Welcome to this year's Eclipse Awards," he said into the microphone, but Cindy began to drown him out, watching the man talk with glazed over eyes. She was so excited and nervous at the same time that she thought she may be having a heart attack.

"We will begin, as always, with outstanding apprentice jockey," he said, opening an envelope. "The nominees are..."

Cindy couldn't listen. She saw a small boy walk up to the stage, a grin plastered to his face, smiling so wide it looked like he was beginning to cry. Cindy smiled unconsciously at the boy, knowing how happy she would be if she had won an Eclipse award as a bug.

"Now on to outstanding jockey," the president went on, looking down at his envelope. "The nominees are Robby Chavez, Chris Bailey, and Cindy McLean."

Cindy sat in a frozen state of silence as she watched the projection of herself and the other nominees riding to victory numerous times on different mounts. Cindy couldn't really focus on the image of herself riding Brushed Black to the win in the Breeders' Cup Sprint, she was so nervous.

"And the recipient of this years award goes to..."

Cindy clutched her hands together, watching as the man opened up the envelope and pulled out the card. "Cindy McLean."

"Oh my God," Cindy cried, jumping up as the applause began. Jack pushed her forward as she stalled by her chair, giving her a nudge toward the stage.

Cindy started to walk forward, remembering to lift her dress from her shoes, climbing the make shift stage.

The president handed her the award and stepped back as Cindy came to a dazed halt in front of the microphone, blinking at the harsh yellow lights.

"Oh my gosh," Cindy laughed into the mic, shaking her head and looking down at the linear statue of Eclipse in her hands. It was heavy, just like the rest she had held.

She put her hand on her forehead, looking out at the crowds. "Thank you so much," she began, turning to beam at Lucas and Jack. "I'd like to thank Lucas Simm, first of all. If he hadn't taken me under his wing at Belmont and given me mounts I'd probably be on the second circuits by now."

Lucas and several other people laughed, including Roan O'Connell, who clapped for Cindy, smiling wide.

"And to Roan O'Connell," Cindy smiled, watching the older woman's smile turn to a grin. "You were an inspiration to me ever since I saw you up at this podium years ago. And when you let me ride next to Dominion I really knew what it was like to fly."

Cindy took a deep and shuddering breath, then plunged on, knowing what she had to say. "And to Ashleigh Griffen and everyone at Whitebrook Farm. They found me, and turned me into what I am now - an honest to God top jockey. Thank you so much!"

The crowd began to clap again as Cindy raised the statue and grinned, walking off the stage to sit back down next to Jack, who smiled at her and grabbed the statue, examining it closely.

"I think there's a scratch here," he said, pointing out an imaginary line along the horse's flank.

"Oh, shut up," Cindy laughed, punching him in the arm playfully.

Jack laughed and set the statue down on the table, ruffling Cindy's hair affectionately.

Cindy sat in a glazed over state for the rest of the night, watching awards being passed out to the eager hands of owners and trainers. Edgewood Farm raked in the most that year, going home with outstanding breeder, best older horse, and horse of the year awards for their champion older colt, Burning London, a grandson of Dominion. Cindy had seen the dark bay monster shatter records the year before, leading to a brilliant performance in the Breeders' Cup Classic. The colt had been an anonymous choice. Nothing had been able to beat him.

Brushed Black won the sprinter award, as Cindy had expected, but Lucas didn't win the award for best trainer. He took it graciously, vowing that Watchmaker was going to be his ticket this year, if not Well's Station. The young three-year-old was coming along nicely at Aqueduct. Cindy was in agreement. Both of Lucas's three-year-olds were primed to take over their division. He would be a shoe in for the next years awards.

After the limousine dropped them back off that their hotel, Jack, Lucas, and Cindy walked down their floor, Cindy lovingly cradling the award in her arms. She stopped at her door, saying good night to Lucas as he gave her a congratulatory kiss on the cheek. Cindy blushed, watching him let himself into his room.

"Be up early tomorrow," Lucas demanded. "I've got an award winning jockey on my pay role but that doesn't mean you're going to sleep in."

"Not a problem, Lucas," Cindy smiled, wishing him good night. "I'll be up earlier than ever."

"I know you will be," Lucas laughed, closing the door behind him.

"So," Jack said immediately after the door shut, raising an eyebrow at her. "An Eclipse Award."

"Yup," Cindy said, her bright eyes twinkling. Looking down at the small statue of the horse.

"The best jockey of the year," Jack continued, smiling at her.

"Yeah, that's what I think that means," Cindy grinned back, so happy she thought she might start crying.

"I'm still not going to give you any slack," Jack pointed out directly, tipping her chin up so he could see her face.

Cindy laughed, pushing him away. "Go get some sleep," she said, giving him a small kick in the shins.

"Ouch!" He let out a mock cry. "That award sure hasn't helped out your personality," he shot back at her, turning to look at her from his door.

"Good night, Jack," Cindy smiled, opening up her door and shutting it in his face before he could say anything more.

As soon as she shut the door, Cindy leaned against it, holding the award out in front of her, grinning.

"Well," she said to it, placing the award down on the night stand. "It looks like I've finally made it to the top."


	9. Two steps forward, one step back

9.

"Two steps forward, one step back"

"Hey big boy," Cindy crooned, leading Watchmaker out into the bright California sunshine, watching with delight as the colt's coat shimmered, reflecting the sun's rays on the deep crimson. Cindy reached up and ran her hand down the colt's face, skipping her fingers over the white stripe.

Watchmaker paused and lifted his head, breathing deeply and letting out a loud whinny.

Cindy laughed, and tugged on the lead rope, heading him out to the large patches of grass she used to take Glory to when the gray colt had been racing. Cindy stopped Watchmaker over the small yard of grass and hoped onto the concrete picnic table, letting the colt drop his head to sniff at the green grass, testing it slowly, sampling the thick blades before he champed down.

Watchmaker let out a little grunt and went to work, chewing and ripping at the grass, focused completely on his task at hand. Cindy smiled at the red chestnut colt and tipped her head back, feeling the warm sun bathe down on her.

She loved the early spring California weather. It was one of the things she missed most after moving from Los Angeles. She knew that it was still cold as icicles at Belmont, and she loved Lucas for picking Santa Anita for Watchmaker.

Suddenly Watchmaker's lead rope went tense, but Cindy didn't notice. She closed her eyes and smiled, daydreaming in the sun, assuming the colt had found a particularly tasty section of grass.

"An Eclipse Award, huh?"

Cindy jumped and whirled around, her eyes flying open. She knew that voice anywhere. But it couldn't be. Not here.

But there he was, standing in front of her as if a day hadn't gone by, his hands in his pockets, dark hair ruffled in the slight breeze.

"Max," Cindy breathed, nearly sliding off the picnic table.

"Hey, Cindy," Max said, offering her a small smile. "It's been a while."

"No kidding," Cindy responded, gathering the lead rope and laying a trembling hand on Watchmaker's red neck, feeling the colt shiver under her fingers. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to congratulate you," Max said, walking up to her, diverting his eyes to the big chestnut colt beside her. "Heather told me actually," he said. "She said you were riding at Santa Anita for Lucas Simm."

"I am," Cindy said, nodding sharply, vowing to kill Heather the next time she saw her. "This guy is his Triple Crown prospect."

"I know," Max said, turning to look at Cindy, finished with looking Watchmaker over.

An awkward silence settled between them before Max finally decided to speak again.

"So I guess you didn't stay in Dubai long."

"Oh, God," Cindy groaned, turning away. "Why did you have to bring that up?"

"Why wouldn't I, Cindy?" Max asked, letting out an exasperated sigh, running his hands through his thick black hair. "I haven't seen you in ten years. Dubai seems like a reasonable place to start. Especially since you sort of left me went you went there."

Cindy shook her head and began to lead Watchmaker back to the barns, scowling. "I don't know, Max. You seem to think that there was still something between us when I left."

"Well, Cindy, basically you cheated on me," Max shot back. "Did you get what you wanted in Dubai?"

"Did you come here just to egg me into a fight with you?" Cindy asked angrily, whirling around, stopping Watchmaker with a sudden jerk. "I didn't cheat on you, and you know that perfectly well. We were ending far before I even knew Ben."

"We were still together, Cindy," Max argued back.

"What?" Cindy hissed back. "You wanted me to sit back while you went and got your college career underway. You wanted me to spend more time with you. Our whole relationship was what you wanted and what I had to give in order for you to stick around."

"That's never how it was, Cindy," Max boomed, walking threateningly to Cindy's small body.

"Oh, no?" Cindy answered tauntingly, looking up at him and standing her ground boldly.

"You know it wasn't like that," Max laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Everything had to be about you and your career. I wouldn't see you for weeks at a time. What sort of relationship is that, Cindy?"

"It was something that would've worked out had you shown more patience," Cindy growled, turning Watchmaker and leading him into the barn, leaving Max to follow her. "Instead of doing that, you got angry, Max, and I couldn't stand to be around you, to be quite honest. Ben was a welcome change."

"The globetrotting rich boy, right?" Max asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

"No," Cindy answered, turning to glare at him. "Someone who was willing to support my career as a jockey. Not someone who became angry with me because of my ambition."

Cindy scowled at Max, putting the colt away in his stall. She was conveniently leaving out the part when she had overheard Ben agree with his father, speaking under his breath that women should not be on race horses, that it was not proper. Cindy hadn't waited to find out any more. Within a day she was back on a plane to New York. She had never seen Ben in person again, and just the thought of him was enough to bring Cindy to tears. But today was different. She wasn't going to cry in front of Max. He had always expected too much from her, and they were always the kind of expectations Cindy despised. She had refused to be tied down, knowing her career would suffer, but Max had tried to force it on her anyway.

"God, what does it even matter," Max laughed, throwing his hands in the air, turning away, leaning against the stalls on the other side of the aisle. "I hope you're happy, Cin. This is the life you've always wanted. How has it treated you?"

Cindy narrowed her eyes at him threateningly and sighed, raising her hands in frustration. "Max, ten years have gone by. Can't we be more civil?"

Max stood there, dropping his head and staring at his feet, finally letting out a loud sigh. "Okay," he relented, looking across the aisle at her expectantly.

"You became a vet?" Cindy asked, trying to find a way out of the awkwardness, knowing at the same time there was no way around it.

"Yeah," Max nodded, laughing quietly under his breath. "I work over at Hollywood Park most of the time, but I'm also on staff at a the Santa Anita Horse Clinic down the road from here."

"That's good to hear," Cindy offered, smiling at him, offering him what she could. "Is there anything else you want to tell me after ten years?"

"I'm going to ask Katrina to marry me," Max said, looking up, diverting his eyes from his shoes to watch Cindy's face change.

"Married?" Cindy asked, her eyes widening. "Who's Katrina?"

"My girlfriend," Max shrugged. "I've been dating her for five years. We've been talking about the big event for a while. I just wanted to see you first."

"Why did you want to see me?" Cindy asked, complete shock registering on her face.

"Besides the obvious?" Max asked, letting out a biting laugh. "I guess I just wanted to see how you were coming along. I wanted to get some closure, but I guess I'll never really have that."

Cindy couldn't say anything. She could only stare at him with blank eyes. "No. I guess there never is any way to make things better. Time is supposed to do that."

"I probably shouldn't have come over here, Cindy," Max said, stepping away from the stall and walking across the aisle. "I'm sorry for that."

He reached out and gave her a hug, smiling into her hair.

"I'm sorry for ten years ago," Cindy whispered, putting her arms around him lightly, hugging him back. He was so different that Cindy could barely recognize him anymore, but she recognized that scent on him. It was the same way he had smelled when he was seventeen, and the thought of it was almost enough to make her cry. But she wasn't going to cry here, and especially in front of Max.

"I hear you're going to the Kentucky Derby," Max said, pushing Cindy away, holding her at arm's length.

Cindy could only nod, afraid that if she opened her mouth to say anything she would begin a constant stream of babbling.

"Good luck," he said, offering her a small smile. "You hear me?"

Cindy nodded again, smiling back quietly.

"I've got to get back to the track," Max said, letting Cindy go and taking a step back.

"Alright," Cindy managed to say, watching him back away from her.

"I'll be watching you in those races," he added, just before he turned around, walking out to the stable yard.

"Congratulations," Cindy called, watching him look over his shoulder and smile, then disappear outside the barn.

Cindy stood completely still, vaguely feeling Watchmaker nudge at her shoulder, his soft velvet muzzle rubbing against her skin. She couldn't believe it. She had never thought of Max as an adult, someone who was living out his life, planning on getting married. He had been forever engraved into her head as that lanky seventeen-year-old she had known so well.

She could feel a surge rising into her throat. She should run down the aisle and catch him before it was too late. She should yell for him, make him stop somehow. Yet, she stood there, unable to force herself to move.

Watchmaker nickered behind her, pushing at her back insistently, stamping a white hoof against his thick bedding.

"Cindy?"

She could hear Jack, and she turned to find him next to her, a look of concern written all over his features. She raised a hand to her cheek and found that tears had been slipping down her pale face. She never even knew she was crying.

"What happened, Cin?" Jack asked, reaching out to touch her arm hesitantly.

"He's getting married," Cindy managed to say, wiping away the wetness on her cheeks.

"Who is getting married?" Jack asked, tipping Cindy's chin up so he could see her face. She looked up into his bright blue eyes and stiffened, pulling away.

"No one," Cindy insisted. "It's nothing."

Jake looked at her for a long moment, sure she was hiding something but knowing at the same time that it would take forever to get it out of her. He drew in a deep breath and let her go.

"Okay," Jack said, shrugging. "Then it's your problem."

Cindy frowned, looking up at him quickly.

"I do, however," Jack said, undoing Watchmaker's stall, "what to get him out of here for a while."

"What do you mean?" Cindy asked, shoving the rest of the tears from her eyes as Jack led Watchmaker out of his stall, letting the majestic colt stand in the aisle, looking around him with interest.

"Lucas has an idea about his conditioning," Jack said, clipping a lead rope to Watchmaker's halter and running a hand down the colt's glistening red neck.

Cindy was silent, watching Jack with a questioning gaze.

"What to come with?" Jack smiled, turning the red chestnut colt and leading him down the aisle to the open door, where Max had left only moments before.

"Where are we going?" Cindy asked, stepping out the door and looking around her. Max was no where to be seen, but just outside the barn was a small trailer, its loading ramp already down.

"To the beach, Cin," Jack said, smiling. "So I'll ask you again. You want to go?"

Cindy nodded wordlessly, and Jack smiled, leading Watchmaker up the ramp and into the trailer.

"You own this place?" Cindy asked, shocked as Jack steered the trailer down the pebble drive way.

"It's in the family," Jack said, driving up to the two story beach house and past it, to the stable area. Cindy sat in the passenger's side, gaping at the beautiful grounds. The house sat above a low cliff, surrounded with trees and flowering gardens. The stable was below, near the beaches. It was small, probably only housing five or six horses at most, Cindy reasoned, but the location was beautiful.

Jack slowed the trailer by the front barn and parked, giving Cindy a grin before he jumped out of the cab. Cindy followed on her side, pausing before she slammed the door. She could see several sleek horses inside the barn, their heads twisted over their stall doors, flicking their ears at her with interest.

Jack rounded the trailer with Watchmaker, the colt dancing eagerly on the end of the line. Cindy turned around and smiled up at the red chestnut colt, reaching up and running her hands down his white stripe, patting his nose cheerfully. The colt was a ball of nervous energy, glancing around him with white ringed eyes.

"What's the plan?" Cindy asked, following Jack into the stable, where he put Watchmaker in crossties.

"Lucas wants to take him out swimming."

"Oh, you're kidding," Cindy laughed, shaking her head. She had always thought Lucas had some strange ideas.

"Well," Jack chuckled, walking up to a lithe bay. "They do have tanks at the track, but Red here needs some time away from the busy scene."

"How do you figure?" Cindy challenged, arching an eyebrow at the bay.

"The last time they tried to put Watchmaker in a tank he freaked out," Jack said, running his hand over the bay's nose. "This beach is all sand and the waves are gentle. I think he'll take it better than the tank."

"Okay," Cindy said, walking up to the bay. "Who is this?"

"Mighty Man," Jack said, patting the colt on the shoulder. "My grand Thoroughbred gelding."

"He's a beauty," Cindy murmured, running her eyes down the gelding's dark legs, feeling the strength the horse had. "Did he ever run on the track?"

"A few times," Jack said, patting the gelding's neck. "He has a respiratory problem that only worsened on the track. He couldn't get enough air into his lungs and never finished well, so he was retired."

"Poor boy," Cindy crooned, smiling as the gelding flicked his ears at her, listening to her voice. Watchmaker whinnied from across the aisle, shaking his deep crimson mane as though demanding attention.

"I'm going to go get another lead rope for Red," Jack mentioned, walking off to the tack room. "I can't wait to see you and Watchmaker all wet."

Cindy shot him a look over Watchmaker's back and snorted, shaking her head. "Well, I bet the water is going to be freezing," Cindy said, frowning at him. "And I didn't even bring a bathing suit with me to California."

"That's why I've got wetsuits up at the house," Jack said, smiling at her smugly, turning on his heel and walking out to the van as Cindy shook her head, stroking Watchmaker's blood red neck in exasperation.

"How about over there?" Cindy asked, leading Watchmaker down the deep sand. The colt was loving the walk, stepping high and thrashing sand all over his legs, flicking his tail arrogantly as Jack and Cindy led him down the beach.

"Nah," Jack said, shaking his head. "The waves are too rough there." He pushed one tanned hand through his dark hair and pointed. "We're going up a little further, where the water is calmer."

Cindy frowned, but nodded, resting a hand on Watchmaker's thick red neck as they walked along, the colt throwing his head in the air, tossing his mane enthusiastically. They finally reached Jack's point and Cindy pushed a lose strand of blond hair back into her ponytail, watching the calm, deep blue water.

"How far are we going out?"

"Not far," Jack answered. "Just enough for this guy to go swimming a little."

Cindy looked back at the colt, who seemed to have calmed down, pricking his ears at the large body of water ahead of him.

"You ready, boy?" Cindy asked the colt, patting Watchmaker's glistening shoulder.

Jack slapped the colt affectionately on the chest and nodded to Cindy. "Let's go. Got your suit all zipped up?"

"Yes," Cindy blushed, trying not to remember the trouble she'd had with it while trying to get it on in the first place. Jack only smiled and clucked to Watchmaker, leading him forward.

The colt stepped into the water, lowering his muzzle to sniff at it delicately, pausing to test the substance. Finally, as though it met his approval, Watchmaker snorted and tossed his head up, breaking into a trot and fairly pulling Cindy into the ocean with him.

Cindy shrieked at the cool water, darting Jack a narrowed gaze as the colt pulled them into the ocean, splashing enthusiastically. Jack only grinned and held on tight, keeping Watchmaker from going too far.

"Let's level him out here," Jack called as soon as the colt was visibly treading water, snorting with each breath at the exercise. "We'll swim down the shore a little and then get out."

Cindy groaned as the cold water slapped around her head, flooding her body with an icy chill. She managed to say next to the colt, holding on next to him, guiding him along the shore.

Watchmaker held his wet head over the water, nostrils flared and ears flicking excitedly, plowing through the water and towing Cindy in his wake. Jack managed to keep up, preventing Watchmaker from swimming out to ocean.

They swam for a while in complete silence, both listening to the snorts of the massive chestnut colt swimming between them. Once Cindy finally got used to swimming along next to the colt, Jack was wheeling him, heading back toward the beach.

"He's had enough," Jack said just as Cindy felt her feet touch the sand again, sighing deeply in gratification. She had never realized what kind of a workout that was. Watchmaker definitely wouldn't need to go out on the track for works any time soon. Suddenly a sharp pain shot through her arm and she groaned, rubbing the irritable bone slowly through the thick wetsuit.

"You okay, Cin?" Jack asked as he led Watchmaker up to the beach, the colt hauling himself out of the ocean and shaking vigorously, covering Jack and Cindy with more salt water.

"Yeah," Cindy immediately replied, very aware of the situation, and steeling herself against any sympathetic comments. She didn't need them, or want them. To her surprise, Jack mentioned nothing more about it.

"Let's get this guy back to the barn, then," Jack said as Watchmaker danced around him on slender legs, nickering deeply. "He'll want a warm bath."

"We both need a warm bath," Cindy replied, throwing her heavy braid of hair behind her head.

"Is that an invitation?" Jack asked, cocking one eyebrow her way.

"Oh, shut up," Cindy laughed, bending down and tossing a handful of sand at him. She regretted the action the moment the wet clump of sand connected with Jack's chest.

Cindy held the bucket of warm water, dousing Watchmaker's crimson coat and rubbing out the salt with a soapy sponge. The colt snorted and shook his head, pounding his hoof against the concrete floor of the wash room. She had already gone over the colt once, and even turned the hose on herself, washing the salt out of her hair and the sand off her body, giving Jack playful glares as she did. He had won the sand war in a landslide, even delivering a few blows to Watchmaker's hindquarters. The colt hadn't seemed to mind, watching their games with mild amusement in his dark eyes.

"So," Cindy finally began, glancing up over at Jack as he rinsed off Watchmaker's back with the warm water, making sure he got all the suds out of the colt's coat. "Mighty Man is yours?"

"Uh-huh," Jack said, smiling and glancing out to the shed row, where Mighty Man was casually laying his head against the side of the stall door, eyes drooping sleepily. "He's my big guy."

"The only one?" Cindy asked, her eyes falling on a dark, dappled gray filly stabled next to the bay.

"He's the only one with ownership papers in my name," Jack shrugged. "The others are family owned."

"Why did you never move him with you to Belmont?" Cindy asked, rubbing the soapy sponge over Watchmaker's neck, feeling the colt grunt happily.

"Mighty isn't a race track horse," Jack said, taking up the task of rinsing off the colt's sudsy tail. "He likes it here, and I wouldn't move him across the country to a cramped barn in the middle of a gravel field."

"You feel strongly about this?" Cindy asked, raising an eyebrow as she attacked Watchmaker's mane, rubbing it thoroughly.

Jack nodded and looked out at the gelding, smiling at the horse's relaxed stance. "He's the greatest, and I'm going to give him the best. He's better off here for right now."

Cindy nodded quietly, wondering still how he could stand to be away from his own horse for so long, through most of the year. She wouldn't have been able to stand it with Joy, she knew. Cindy would've pulled her along where ever she went.

"You own your own?" Jack asked, looking over at her.

"Why?" Cindy asked sharply, feeling suddenly uneasy.

"Well, you love the horses so much. I was just wondering if you happened to own your own fleet of equines. You can afford it," Jack said, finishing off Watchmaker's tail and moving to rinse off the colt's neck.

"I could," Cindy shrugged, answering with clipped words. "But I don't."

Jack gave her a side long glance and laughed. "Man, if there isn't bitterness seeping through your voice."

Cindy sighed and stepped back as Jack finished off, turning to shut off the hose. Watchmaker stood, shimmering before them as the healthy Thoroughbred he was. He turned his white-marked face toward Cindy and whinnied, shaking his soaked mane.

Cindy's silent expression vanished into a smile at the sight of the colt, noticing Shining in his face and sweet brown eyes.

"I did have a horse once," Cindy said suddenly, thinking about Sammy and Shining, watching them train together. It was painfully reminiscent of her own beginning with Joy.

"Oh?" Jack asked, as though not interested anymore.

"Her name was Joy," Cindy said quietly, watching Watchmaker shift his weight and shake the dampness from his coat. "She was going to be Whitebrook's first winner of the Triple Tiara."

"What happened?" Jack asked, untying Watchmaker to lead him out of the room and to a dry stall and a blanket.

"Things didn't exactly work out," Cindy muttered, stopping herself from speaking, stopping the sob rising in her throat, and turned quickly on her heel, striding to the door.

"When are we going back?" She asked suddenly, stopping in the door, forcing herself to remain calm. She was good at that.

"As soon as possible," Jack said, holding Watchmaker and giving her a confused look.

"Good," Cindy responded, taking off for the house and a long, warm shower, trying hard to forget.


	10. Still Memories

10.

"Still Memories"

Cindy couldn't keep her eyes off him. The massive dark brown horse effortlessly skipped over the track, head bowed in concentration, ears flicked back, eating up the ground in sure, large strides. He was the picture of his sire.

"Amazing, isn't he?" Lucas said from behind Cindy, walking up to stand next to her at the rail.

"Just like In Shadows," Cindy commented, remembering the jet black Whitebrook colt. "Except for that star on his head."

"Just talked to his trainer," Lucas said, running a hand through his short hair. "A certain Lou Phillips."

Cindy arched an eyebrow incredulously. "What did she have to say?"

"She's very taken with him. A serious worker, always sound, runs like a demon," Lucas laughed, smiling as the colt slowed in the backstretch, limbering up after his long plane ride from Louisiana. "I think we've got ourselves some competition for the San Felipe."

"Well, I don't think that's a good thing," Cindy snorted, rubbing the side of her working boots against the white rail post. "It seemed like the only worthwhile horse we were going up against was Countdown. Watchmaker beat him last time out."

Cindy frowned, watching the new colt trot down the homestretch, moving perfectly down the track. The Santa Anita landscape was getting much busier as they worked their way into the middle of March. The place was swimming with stakes competitors, horses that matched Watchmaker in pedigree and performance. This colt, In Reason, was only one just newly arrived. Most were on the Triple Crown trail, with In Reason being the most prominent, putting in a solid victory in Fair Ground's Risen Star Stakes, winning by five lengths.

Cindy's eyes flew down In Reason's body as he pranced by the rail, slowing at the gap for Lou Phillips, who was grinning widely. The colt was beautiful, but then, as a grandson of Dominion, he ought to be. He had champion written all over him. Yet, Cindy reminded herself firmly, so did Watchmaker.

"I'm going walking," Cindy suddenly announced, pulling her eyes from the dark colt.

"Are you going to be watching the Florida Derby with us in the office?" Lucas called back, turning to watch Cindy head off to the barns.

"Sure," Cindy called over her shoulder, remembering with a rush that Russian Winter was the favorite in that race, and Cindy's old mentor would be riding him. Cindy remembered when Ashleigh had decided to retire shortly after losing her second child, but, as with so many other retired jockeys, the longing to ride got the best of her. Within another year Ashleigh was back riding winners for Whitebrook.

Before she even knew where she was walking, she found herself outside of the Townsend's private barn, peering inside. It was fairly quiet, with only the soft sounds of milling horses breaking the silence. She could see a gray head down the aisle and, out of curiosity, she walked in, heading for Townsend King's stall.

"Hey," Cindy crooned as the colt greeted her at the stall, lifting his head over the half door, pricking his ears at her. Cindy rested a hand on the colt's nose, rubbing her fingers over the silky feel of it.

Only a few days ago Townsend King had put in an impressive victory in the San Rafael Stakes, beating Michael and Fallsway by a large margin. The gray had definitely brought back memories of Glory when she watched him blow away the field. She had only felt a stab of remorse when she saw Brad and Lavinia cheering him on a few boxes down in the stands.

Townsend King nickered into Cindy's hands, lipping at her fingers, snuffing around for treats.

"Nothing today, boy," Cindy smiled, rubbing her hands over the colt's cheekbones, looking up at him. King lifted his head high and pricked his ears, swishing his black and white tail.

Cindy smiled up at him, seeing Glory and Joy in the gray colt's perfectly formed body and slender legs. King dropped his head with a loud snort and nudged Cindy's side affectionately, grunting.

"You're a beauty, boy," Cindy said, reaching up and scratching the colt's chin. "You know that, don't you?"

King lowered his head even more as she began to scratch his ears, closing his eyes as she ran her short nails over the colt's coat. Cindy sighed longingly, remembering the many times she had done this with Joy. She would stay by the filly for endless moments, scratching her and watching her every move, glorying in the fact that she was hers.

Abruptly, Cindy stopped touching the gray colt, taking a step back. King lifted his head suddenly, opening his eyes. Cindy groaned to herself. King was not Glory, he was definitely not Joy, and he was certainly not hers. The gray colt reached out to her, deep brown eyes searching her out, but Cindy took another step back, turning on her heel and walking out of the barn, leaving Townsend King behind her.

"Welcome to Gulfstream Park on this beautiful March afternoon..."

Cindy could hear the television announcer's voice blaring out of the big screen television as she walked in the office, finding Lucas, Jack, and several other trainers milling about. Jack turned around and motioned for her to sit down, throwing an arm around her as she settled herself on the sofa next to him. For a moment, Cindy stiffened at the contact of it, but looking up at Jack's soft smile as he proceeded to tell her, in detail, the great commercial she had missed she began to loosen up.

"Where have you been anyway?" Jack asked, looking down at her. "I saw you come out of the Townsend barn a while ago."

"I went shopping with Heather," Cindy said, noticing the blank look she was receiving. "She's an old friend."

"Ah," Jack nodded, turning to watch the television as it projected sweeping visions of the track, bordered with tall palms. "Girl talk?"

"The worst kind," Cindy smiled, remembering her lunch and Beverly Hills shopping spree with Heather. Cindy had never been much of a shopper herself, but Heather seemed to inspire her, and in result she had come back to the track with two new pairs of shoes and a formal for the traditional Derby party. It was a bit presumptuous, Cindy thought, but it was better to be safe than sorry and have nothing new to wear.

"What kind is the worst kind?" Jack asked, pulling his eyes from the telecaster and focusing on Cindy.

Automatically she blushed, laughing it off. "Nothing," she insisted, looking at the television. "Men wouldn't understand."

"Oh, wouldn't we?" Jack asked, chuckling.

"Nope," Cindy smiled, her blush deepening to a brilliant red. There wasn't any way she was going to tell Jack about her conversations with Heather. Especially since most of it had revolved around him. Heather was always one to jump to conclusions, and when Cindy mentioned Jack that was all her friend needed. The rest of their trip had been about Jack, who he was seeing, whether or not Cindy would ever consider dating him, why she wouldn't even dream of dating him, and examining their playful banter Cindy had happened to mention. According to Heather, Cindy was required to explore the possibilities.

She was glad when Jack seemed to decide to let it go, instead turning their attention to the race.

The camera seemed to be all over Russian Winter, scanning down the colt whenever he walked by in the ring. The main special was about him as well, centering on his near nobody status as a two-year-old who suddenly rose in the ranks at three, winning the Fountain of Youth with a veteran jockey on his back. Cindy watched all the images of Whitebrook slide past her without batting an eye, recognizing the training track and the newer images of Ashleigh galloping the bay colt over it in the mornings, Mike standing at the rail with a stopwatch in his hands. It seemed things hadn't changed.

"Looks good?" Jack asked, toying with the remote.

"Huh?" Cindy responded, her eyes glued to the scenes on the television.

"The farm."

"Oh, yeah. Sure," Cindy responded, shrugging as the special ended and a reporter Cindy didn't recognize was standing by Ashleigh and Russian Winter, Ian standing just behind them, saddling the bay colt.

"I'm here with Ashleigh Griffen, owner and jockey of the Fountain of Youth winner, Russian Winter," said the unfamiliar women, who smiled at the camera with a lipsticked mouth. "Tell us," she said, turning to Ashleigh. "What will your strategy be today for the Florida Derby?"

"Very much like the Fountain of Youth," Ashleigh said forthright. "We'll be coming from behind, hoping that the track bias doesn't cut into his performance."

"He did very well in the Fountain of Youth," the reporter answered, nodding her head. "Do you think he still has that edge?"

"Most definitely," Ashleigh answered immediately. "He has been working great, putting in fantastic times, and staying sound for us. If he can win this one it will be a great stepping off point for the Blue Grass and the Derby later on."

"Thank you," the woman smiled. "And good luck."

Ashleigh nodded cordially and stepped back into the box, exchanging a few words with Ian. Cindy scowled, watching the image of the jockey, wondering if she would ever be considered as great a legend as Ashleigh Griffen. She definitely hadn't started out so great, but then, she hadn't started riding Wonder either.

Cindy sat through the rest of the race, watching the proceedings with blank eyes. She had ridden in the Florida Derby before, on High Roller. He had come in second that day, by far the lesser horse.

"Riders up!" Cindy heard the short sentence being called through the paddock. Her eyes never left the television as Ashleigh jumped up on Russian Winter, the beautiful bay arching his neck proudly as his jockey collected the reins, settling in the saddle.

Cindy noticed Factory Line and Cherokee Pride bouncing by on slender legs, Russian Winter's only real competitors. There were two new colts in the race as well, Simple Truths and Your Fortune, both from Belmont and new to the Gulfstream scene. Cindy had scanned over their racing records earlier in the day and knew Russian Winter had them beat. He had everyone beaten in the field and they hadn't even gone to the post yet.

Cindy could barely sit still, squirming in her seat as the sleek horses paraded past the grandstand, Simple Truths rearing up and diving around his lead pony desperately, causing a scene. Russian Winter looked like a god with his head held high, Ashleigh sitting silently on his back as the bay passed Simple Truths on the way to the post, casually flicking his jet tail.

Suddenly, Cindy's foot connected with Jack's leg and he twisted around to look down at her. "Simmer down, Cin," he laughed, shaking his head. "The post isn't until another five minutes."

"I just wish they'd get on with it," Cindy groaned, frustrated. "We all know who's going to win."

"Well, Your Fortune did pretty well as a two-year-old. I wouldn't count him out," Jack said, watching the chestnut kick into a warm up, galloping up the rail. Cindy shook her head, still watching Ashleigh and the bay in the corner of the television screen. Russian Winter calmly cantered up the track, pricking his ears at the dirt. She knew Russian Winter had this one in the bag. He was a given, and the overwhelming favorite with the best odds. A person would be a fool not to bet on the bay.

Finally, the small group of horses turned and pranced to the post, flicking their ears excitedly, eyes rolling in their heads. Simple Truths reared so high up he nearly fell over backwards, and Cherokee Pride shied away from him, skittering on slender legs. Russian Winter held his own, calmly trotting Ashleigh up to the gate.

They loaded into the gate and Cindy crossed her arms over her chest, watching each jockey preparing their horse. Simple Truths, for what seemed to be his only calm moment, held still, and the starter opened the gate.

Automatically Cindy leaned forward as the horses plunged out of the metal stalls, pushing their way forward to grab the prime spots. Simple Truths rocketed to the lead, beating Cherokee Pride and surging, pulling away by a length as the rest of the field climbed over each other to grab positions along the rail. Ashleigh let Russian Winter settle on the rail, far back from the battling colts on the lead.

Cindy couldn't keep her eyes off Russian Winter. She didn't care what the other colts were doing, what positions they were in. She knew Russian Winter was the one to watch, and apparently so did everyone else.

"Look at the way she rides him," Jack said, shaking his head. "Perfect."

Cindy didn't glance back at Jack. She kept her eyes steady, watching Ashleigh's hands guide the reins over Russian Winter's neck, flowing with the colt. The two were being sprayed with mud, but they remained at their pace, waiting carefully for the moment to strike.

Simple Truths was running easily all out, the dark brown colt having his way with Cherokee Pride, who seemed confused at not being on the lead. His stride was off and the gray began to fall back, allowing Factory Line to move up around him as the field spilled into the last turn of the race.

Quickly, Cindy snapped her eyes back to Russian Winter, who could just barely be seen on the side of the screen, running lightly. Then she saw Ashleigh move her hands, dropping even lower in the saddle and flip the crop up into striking position. Swiftly, she moved the stick by Russian Winter's eye and the bay seemed to hit his most powerful stride, because the next leap he took was gigantic, surging as Ashleigh headed him around horses.

The bay was galloping full speed, running past the field, picking each off one by one until they were sweeping into the homestretch. Ashleigh slapped the colt once, twice, three times and that was all Russian Winter needed. The colt galloped hard down the middle of the track, pulling up next to Factory Line and passing him by in the same moment, rushing up to Simple Truths, who saw the bay colt coming and bore down.

The bay was all muscle and grace, slamming on all the power he needed to plummet past the darker colt, speeding up to the finish line alone with Ashleigh raising a fist in victory, Russian Winter's head craned up from the excitement and rush of his drive. The crowds in the grandstand were screaming at the top of their lungs, much to Cindy's surprise. The bay must have generated a fan base already, she thought to herself grudgingly, watching Ashleigh reach down and pat Russian Winter's steaming neck.

"Holy crap," Lucas muttered, running a hand up to his forehead and into his hair, closing his eyes. "Please don't tell me he just equaled the track record."

Cindy's eyes darted to the toteboard as the camera panned back, the announcers chattering away excitedly. She caught the time on the board and groaned, nodding to him. "He did, but it was a fast track," Cindy reasoned, thinking back to Watchmaker's San Vicente time, wondering how it would compare to Russian Winter's. The distances were different, she reminded herself. They would have to wait to see Watchmaker's time in the San Felipe until they could do a comparison.

"Well," Jack stood up. "There you have it. I think that's all the competition Watchmaker will ever need."

"No kidding," Cindy frowned, standing up as well as someone turned off the television before they could see Ashleigh return Russian Winter to the winner's circle. That was fine with Cindy. She hadn't wanted to watch them receive their honors anyway.

They filed out of the office, Lucas pulling Cindy and Jack over to the side.

"Okay," he said, glancing at Watchmaker's stall down the hall, the red chestnut colt milling quietly. By the looks of Lucas' tense and squared jaw Cindy knew he wanted to talk strategy. "From this point on we're serious about getting Watchmaker set for the San Felipe."

"I thought we already were serious," Cindy broke in, giving him an expressionless gaze.

"I know that," Lucas said, shaking his head. "But if we're going to get a jump on Russian Winter it's going to be now. Before the Santa Anita Derby and before the Bluegrass."

"But we're already nominated for the Derby," Jack reasoned. "Watchmaker only has to put in one more good showing before the Derby," he added, glancing at Cindy. "Logically."

"And who says we need to get a jump on Russian Winter. We're in California. He's not even headed here," Cindy said, shrugging.

"Maybe you didn't hear what the announcers were saying after he won," Lucas said, catching them both.

"What?" Cindy asked, remembering that she hadn't exactly been paying attention to what the announcers were saying. She generally didn't.

"People are talking Triple Crown," Lucas said, giving them both a look. Cindy tried to force her jaw shut. She couldn't believe the hype people applied to horses so soon for the Triple Crown. No one had been able to do it since Wonder's Champion over ten years ago, but the fans were obviously thirsty for another. And they had chosen Russian Winter.

"So from here on out, the Watchmaker campaign is in full swing," Lucas said, giving them both a business look. Jack nodded solemnly and sighed, running his fingers through his dark hair.

"I'll see you both tomorrow morning," Lucas said, glancing at his watch. "I've got an auction to go to for the Dearharts."

"Are we breezing?" Cindy called down the aisle as Lucas walked away, pulling on his jacket, but he paused to look over his shoulder.

"You better believe it!"

"I can't believe all this over a horse with two major wins under its belt," Cindy muttered to Jack as they sat in the lobby of their hotel later that night. "You'd think people would wait until the major racing in April before deciding on a favorite in March."

Jack shrugged, looking at the whiskey he held in his hand. "People are hungry for it. They want to see another Wonder's Champion," he laughed, sipping at the drink.

Cindy watched him for a moment before returning to her gin and tonic, sipping at it daintily and setting it back down on the napkin.

"Well," she said, clearing her throat of the thick gin. "We've got a week to get Watchmaker ready for the San Felipe."

"He'll be fine," Jack said, shaking his head. "Lucas is getting nervous and I don't blame him. The big test is getting closer and closer."

And Watchmaker isn't the favorite, Cindy thought wryly, sighing into her drink, gulping down another mouthful and scrunching up her nose.

"Too much gin?" Jack asked, chuckling at her.

"No," Cindy coughed, shaking her head and laughing. "Yeah, actually."

"Promise you won't get drunk," Jack said, watching her warily. "I don't want to deal with that again."

"Oh I wasn't so bad," Cindy said, smiling. Jack grinned at her, his bright blue eyes shimmering mischievously.

"I'd say puking in a trash can is bad," Jack replied, taking a gulp of the whiskey.

"Okay, fine," Cindy returned, sipping her drink as well. "But that was sweet. Laura always said guys who help out drunken girls are always keepers. God knows you've done it for me plenty of times."

At that they both froze, watching each other carefully.

Cindy couldn't force herself to stop watching Jack, her mind racing with the effort to pull back, finding at the same time that she couldn't. Mentally she kicked herself over and over again. She did not think Jack was a keeper in any way, and especially not for her. Over and over again she repeated it to herself like a mantra, her eyes wide as a doe's. Finally, Jack checked his watch.

"It's getting late, Cin," he observed, holding up his wrist for her to see.

"I've got a watch," Cindy said. "I know."

"I think I'm going to go to sleep," he said, getting up and drinking the last of the whiskey.

"You coming?" He asked, setting the empty glass on the table and shelling out a few dollars.

"Yeah," Cindy replied, her face suddenly flushing with heat. She didn't know why. Their rooms were right across from one another. They were just going upstairs together, going to separate bedrooms. And yet her heart was pounding. Suddenly her whole conversation with Heather was becoming fresh in her mind, and she ducked her head down to cover up the deepening blush.

They rode up the elevator in silence, Cindy counting the beats of her heart, wondering if it was possible to calm herself down. This was Jack, she reminded herself over and over again. He's like your best friend, he is not an open possibility, she insisted, feeling the awkwardness suffocating her. The back of her mind was telling her it was all a lie.

What about Florida? What about the beach? You weren't friends then.

Cindy stopped herself right there and glanced over at him, but he was staring straight ahead, as if waiting to jump the doors and pry them apart in efforts to get out.

Suddenly the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Jack was the first out, striding up the hall with Cindy behind him. They went to their doors, each sliding the hotel keys into the locks. Jack opened his first and turned to watch Cindy struggle with her door, which seemed to refuse to give her the green light.

"Slower, Cin," Jack said, a smile breaking on his face.

"Oh," Cindy muttered, slamming the key card into the door one last time and pulling it out, a green light flashing up at her. "Thanks."

"No problem," he answered, leaning against the door. "Hey."

"Yeah?" Cindy whipped around, jumping like a skittish horse.

"You want to come inside for a while? I've got plenty of gin," he smiled at her, and all she could manage was to swallow hard, staring back at him like a doe caught in headlights.

"I think I've had enough gin for a while," Cindy squeaked, clearing her throat. "Um, I mean, it is getting pretty late."

Jack nodded and glanced at his watch. "So it is," he said, then returned his eyes to her. "Next time then," he said, and it wasn't a question.

"Yeah," Cindy nodded. "Sure. Next time."

She backed into her room, watching him as she did, feeling hot all over and wondering if it was only because of the alcohol. It didn't really matter, she knew. She intended to give herself a thorough berating after she closed the door.

"Good night, Cin," he said, finally turning to go into his own room, giving her a look over his shoulder.

"Night, Jack."


	11. A New Twist

11.

"A New Twist"

Cindy moved like a machine. She pulled on the dark green silks, shoved her braided hair into a thick knot behind her head, tucked everything in where it was supposed to be tucked, pulled the green cover onto her hard hat, made sure her protective vest was buckled and secure, then placed the hat firmly on her head, staring at herself in the mirror.

She whipped the long crop from her duffel bag, the crop that Ashleigh had given to her on her sixteenth birthday. The burned letters on the side spelled out: "To our newest jockey, with love." Cindy didn't really look at them anymore, but she could always feel the message pressed into her hand when she grabbed the handle, swinging the stick into motion.

A knock on the door startled Cindy from her thoughts, jumping and whirling around at the knock.

"Everybody decent?" A male voice called through the door, chuckling lightly.

"Oh come off it, Larry," Cindy called back, laughing. "You know it's just me."

"Well, it still applies," Larry said, opening the door and sticking his head inside the female side of the jockey's room. "We're all going out to the paddock. You coming along?"

"Of course," Cindy nodded, checking the rubber bands around her wrists again. "When's post time?"

"Twenty minutes and counting," Larry answered, following Cindy out the door as they made their way to the paddocks. Cindy glanced at the group of jockeys ahead of them, their brightly colored silks shimmering in the California light, flashing brilliant designs and logos of individual owners. Cindy had to admit Watchmaker's silks were a bit plain - only dark green and white - but they were still just as brilliant as Larry's, who was sporting the Apple Gate Farm colors of a large red apple and green leaf over a deep, royal blue.

"How is Desert Boss coming along?" Cindy mentioned, remembering Larry's mount from previous works and a full write up in the Daily Racing Form. The colt was progressing slowly but surely in times, putting in solid works. Cindy wasn't kidding herself when she thought the bay colt was no match for Watchmaker. The red colt had put in the best work of the day five mornings earlier.

"He's doing really well," Larry said, shrugging. "He's a longshot, but he put in a great work the other day."

Cindy nodded lightly, walking into the paddock with the rest of the jockeys, scanning over the mass of milling people and the line of twelve horses entered in the San Felipe. Watchmaker was easily noticeable, his blood red coat sparkling crimson in the afternoon heat. He was putting on another show for his audience, shaking his sweat dampened head and prancing on straight legs, champing the bit mercilessly.

Cindy dodged around large groups of well-dressed owners, coming to stall four, where Lucas was standing, leaning against the stall post, watching In Reason dance by, swishing his dark tail and arching his neck proudly.

"Got a good group of horses," Lucas said as Cindy approached, tapping her crop against her boot.

"Yeah," she said, turning as Countdown trotted by, his light bay head held high, eyes rolling. "But we're the favorite this time," she said, giving a small smile to the Dearharts, who approached them from the middle of the paddock, Maggie very engrossed with watching Watchmaker prance, showing off to the stands.

"He looks a little hot," Maggie said, frowning with concern as Watchmaker danced past the stall, his shoulders darkening with sweat. Jack was leading him calmly, handling the colt perfectly. Just seeing the assistant trainer sent warm streaks up to Cindy's cheeks, turning them a soft pink color. They had acted normally around each other for the past week, and Cindy was starting to convince herself that she hadn't said anything amazingly dumb. Yet each time she saw him that familiar warm rush flowed to her face, and she was powerless to stop it.

"He'll be fine," Lucas said, pushing a hand into his hair, ruffling it up unconsciously. Cindy watched the energetic colt and noticed the dark sweat spreading over his chest. It had been an unusually warm week in Los Angeles. Spring was definitely here, and it had announced its presence with a sudden warm up.

"It's getting close to that time," Jack announced, stopping Watchmaker next to the stall and leading the tall colt in, throwing a smile in Cindy's direction.

The other horses were being led back to their stalls, to their jockeys. Awkward Talk plunged by Watchmaker, shaking his deep brown mane on the way to his stall. Watchmaker snorted and shifted his weight, eyeing the horses flowing past, turning his head to Cindy and nudging her, watching her with deep brown eyes.

Cindy smiled and ran her hand down the colt's white stripe, leaning down to kiss his soft nose.

"Riders up!"

"That's you, Cin," Lucas said, getting behind her. Cindy nodded and let him give her a leg up, vaulting into the saddle and feeling Watchmaker's powerful muscles quiver underneath her as the colt drew himself up, arching his neck proudly.

"Let's go, boy," Jack murmured, leading the scarlet colt out of the stall, Cindy settling in the saddle as they made their way out of the paddock, the other eleven horses falling into line around them.

"Hey, Cin," Jack called as they got to the tunnel, Cindy sitting tall in the saddle.

"Yeah?" Cindy asked, looking down at Jack, giving him a nervous smile.

"How about we go out to dinner tonight," he offered, checking Watchmaker as the colt shied from the rail, trying to jerk the reins from Cindy's experienced hands.

"I don't know, Jack," Cindy frowned, feeling that sudden rush of warmth again, wondering what his hidden intentions were. With Jack there were always hidden intentions. She had learned this well over the years that they had both worked for Lucas.

"What don't you know?" Jack laughed, craning his head back to look at Cindy, his dusky blue eyes glinting mischievously. "Just a simple dinner."

"Jack..." Cindy said, rolling her eyes. "What's the catch."

"There is no catch," Jack said, smiling as they stopped under the tunnel, waiting for Vastness to calm down and step onto the track. The dark bay was shying and refusing to step forward, no matter what his handler did.

"Right," Cindy snorted, cocking an eyebrow at him, patting Watchmaker's strong neck to sooth his jumpy nerves.

"Okay," Jack said, glancing back to monitor the condition ahead. "What about this."

Cindy smirked at him, but decided to listen anyway. This was Jack she was looking at, and he could be highly amusing.

"Watchmaker is the favorite in this race. Here's incentive for you to get him to first place."

Cindy snorted, rolling her eyes as Vastness reared up, nearly pulling his handler off the ground. Watchmaker watched with interest, but stayed calm as Jack laid a hand on his nose, a grin spread on his face.

"Hear me out, Cin."

"Okay," Cindy groaned. "Go on."

"If we lose, you go to dinner with me. Fair?"

Cindy considered him for a moment. It was true that it was highly unlikely that Watchmaker would lose. He was by far the best in the field, and Cindy had every confidence in him. Then again, it was a horse race and unpredictable things tended to happen in horse races. Still, dinner with Jack wouldn't be so bad. She could always get a free meal out of it. Cindy sighed and nodded.

"Fine," Cindy grunted as they forced Vastness onto the track and the line began to move. "Since it's highly unlikely that I'll have to go through with it, I'll accept."

"Great," Jack said, passing her off to the out rider. "And don't worry!" He called behind her as they trotted off down the track. "I don't have the race rigged or anything!"

At that Cindy turned full around in the saddle and scowled at him, shaking her head, finally dissolving into laughter.

Cindy sat quietly in the saddle as the field paraded down to the gate, picking up the pace to warm up in the far turn. Watchmaker easily slid into an effortless gallop, his strides consuming the track as they worked their way up the rail. Cindy felt the colt pulling on the reins, eager for the race ahead.

On their outside, In Reason flew past, dark mane and tail pluming behind him. The massive colt soared up the track, fighting his jockey, tossing his head up in frustration. Cindy frowned directly at the colt, wondering quietly whether he was going to be a worthy mention to his sire's name.

In Reason suddenly slowed and turned, allowing his jockey to head him back to the gate, the dark colt's fine head held high, nostrils flared. Watchmaker snorted and picked up his feet, dropping his pace to turn, dancing and prancing next to the lead pony, turning his head to nip at the Quarter Horse's yellow neck.

"Whoa," Cindy crooned, running her fingers through the colt's mane. The field was approaching the gate, nervous intensity running through them like a broken circuit, traveling randomly through the pack.

Vastness was first to load, the upbeat colt nearly running at the gate in anticipation. The handlers had to pull the colt back, jerking the colt into a tight circle, then sliding him into the gate. Then the only gray in the field, Saint's Prophecy, walked calmly in. Lemon Drops, the third horse, loaded without a hitch, and then it was Watchmaker's turn.

The chestnut colt eyed his handlers curiously as they led him to the gate, Watchmaker walking into the gate like a pure gentleman, flicking his ears at the track, huffing excitedly. Cindy went to work busily, pulling down her goggles and weaving her fingers through the colt's mane, anticipating the jump. Desert Boss, In Reason, and Countdown loaded quietly, followed by Awkward Talk, Magic World, Glitter Boy, Triple Divide, and then End Title.

Cindy leaned forward, eyes glued to the track. A split second later, the doors were crashing open and the bell was screaming through her ears.

"Go!" Cindy shouted, pumping her arms up as Watchmaker plunged, surging from the gate and laying on speed, slamming his way through horses to fight for the front. Cindy aimed the colt at the rail, skipping by Lemon Drops and Saint's Prophecy, only to nearly slam into Vastness, who was careening up to the front along the rail, head up and eyes wild with white.

Cindy cursed loudly, checking Watchmaker hard as the dark bay colt plunged past, grabbing the lead and sailing with it as they passed the grandstand. Watchmaker settled for second, hurrying to catch the other colt's pace, his stride jilted from the effort it took to check the large chestnut. Cindy glanced behind her, spotting Awkward Talk, Triple Divide, and End Title just behind her. Further back she knew Countdown was there, waiting it out, and even further was In Reason, running last like his sire had so fondly done.

Cindy growled to herself as Vastness pulled away a little, striding into the backstretch, leaving Watchmaker to fight off the rest of the colts. Cindy let Watchmaker run at his own pace, feeling the colt finally settle halfway down the backstretch, running with enough speed to keep everyone firmly behind him. Cindy kept her eyes open, watching for signs of fatigue from Vastness. The colt was obviously running rank, tearing the reins from his jockey's fingers in frustration.

They began to head into the turn and Cindy let Watchmaker ease into Vastness' lead, stretching out and beginning his run, flattening his ears against his head in concentration. Cindy could feel the colt's muscles bunching and loosening, working to propel the colt forward along the rail, skimming by it quickly.

"Okay," Cindy muttered, knowing her words were lost in the wind. "Lets go, boy."

They plunged into the far turn, Vastness faltering in his stride, slowing. Watchmaker surged, finding his faster gear and shifting. Cindy drew the colt to the inside as Vastness bore right, falling back into the pack. The red colt grabbed the lead and pushed with it, speeding around the turn, heading into the stretch alone.

Cindy could hear the snorted breaths of colts on her back, moving in a great wall of speed and mass, hurtling after her. She glanced back and saw Countdown, the light bay gaining ground and shoving his nose along Watchmaker's flank.

"Come on, Red!" Cindy yelled, raising up the crop and flashing it by Watchmaker's eye, giving him the signal for more speed. Watchmaker had it and laid it on, churning past the quarter mile marker to the roaring cheers of the grandstand. The crimson colt beat into the track, and Cindy gave him his head. Watchmaker slid into his other lead, suddenly pulling further away from Countdown, leaving the field behind as they soared for the wire.

Cindy glanced behind her again and noticed a dark body shooting around the field, going wide through horses like a catapult. She whipped around, kneading her hands along Watchmaker's neck and yelling for more. They weren't done yet.

In Reason was sailing past Glitter Boy and End Title, skipping around Vastness and pulling free of Countdown, plunging after Watchmaker with vigor.

"Go!" Cindy shouted as she heard In Reason behind them, snorting loudly through red rimmed nostrils, his jockey pushing on him for more.

Watchmaker pinned back his ears and dug down, but In Reason kept coming, drawing even along the red colt's side. The two colts eyed each other coming down the stretch, snorting and plunging, battling it out to the wire.

Cindy worked hard, swinging the crop past the colt's eye, asking for more, feeling Watchmaker give everything he could. But In Reason was still there, challenging his every move, pushing his nose in front as the wire loomed before them.

Cindy yelled, pushing herself up Watchmaker's neck as the red colt lunged again, bobbing forward to catch the dark bay. And then the wire slipped over them.

She groaned as soon as they were past the finish, standing in the stirrups and bowing her head, slowing the red colt in the turn. In Reason snorted and slowed next to them, shaking his sweat dampened mane from his slick neck.

"Great race," In Reason's jockey smiled from the bay colt's back. "All the way to the end."

"But you got the nod," Cindy relented, giving him a small smile. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," he said, smiling and turning the tall colt around, heading back for the winner's circle.

Watchmaker snorted and stopped, shaking his soaked head wearily.

"It's okay," Cindy said, patting the colt's neck reassuringly. "We'll get him next time."

She turned the colt around and headed back to the grandstand, where his groom would be waiting with buckets of water. She trotted past the toteboard, which still flashed "photo...please hold tickets." Cindy ignored it, knowing that In Reason's nose had caught the wire first.

Finally, as she slowed Watchmaker at the rail a murmur went up in the stands and she glanced up. Sure enough, there was In Reason's number, flashing above Watchmaker's number four.

Cindy turned away from the board and jumped off of the red colt, undoing the saddle quickly before reporters could get to her, before they could bombard her with questions about Watchmaker's loss.

"Cindy!" She heard one reporter yelling, trying to get her attention. Cindy shook her head and held up a finger, going to weigh in. She glanced behind her and saw Watchmaker shaking himself as the groom threw buckets of water over his back and chest, washing the sweat and heat away.

Cindy jumped off the scale and slid past the reporters, heading back to the jockey's room to clean up. She didn't want to face Lucas for an explanation yet. That could always wait until later. Right now, all Cindy wanted was a long shower and peace.


	12. In Reality

12.

"In Reality"

"You know what?" Jack asked, gunning his rental Mustang through the streets of Los Angeles.

"What?" Cindy responded, the warm spring wind blowing around her head, pulling strands of hair from her ponytail, whipping them across her face, annoying Cindy to no end.

"I guess this date is pretty bittersweet," Jack said, shooting Cindy a genuine smile.

Cindy glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and shook her head. "What's sweet about it? Watchmaker just lost the San Felipe, Russian Winter won the Florida Derby, and I've got reporters all over my back asking for explanations."

"Well when you put it that way it doesn't sound so good," Jack laughed light heartedly, slowing the car at a red light and turning to Cindy.

"Of course it doesn't look good," Cindy frowned, sighing. "We just made Russian Winter the favorite for the Derby."

"No we didn't," Jack disagreed, looking back at the red light. "If I remember correctly there is another race between now and the Derby, Cin."

Cindy rolled her eyes, "But we have a loss to add to our record."

"I always knew you were a competitive little thing," Jack smirked, plowing forward when the light changed.

"Oh, what does that mean?" Cindy asked, sighing deliberately.

"It means," Jack glanced over at her, shifting the car into fourth gear. "Shut up."

The car roared down the street, Cindy's jaw hanging open as the wind tore at her hair, catching on her lips.

Fifteen minutes later Cindy found herself in a Thai restaurant, whose name she couldn't even begin to pronounce. It was casual, Cindy noticed thankfully, remembering her blue jeans, red shirt, and Nikes. She had told herself to dress down for the occasion. This wasn't important, she knew. And she told herself that over and over again.

The waitress led them by various green plants, carvings of elephants, several figurines of various gods and goddesses before seating them near the back of the crowded room. Cindy slid into the chair and looked about through the dim light of candles.

"You go to this place often?" Cindy asked as Jack sat down across from her, pulling off his jacket.

"At least once a year," he shrugged. "When I'm in town."

"Not in town a lot?" Cindy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you know I'm with Lucas at Belmont half the year. I guess I should feel privileged that I'm his right hand man, but that doesn't give me a lot of time to go home," Jack said, accepting the menus from the waitress.

Cindy nodded, remembering how many assistant trainers Lucas had working for him. As down to earth and simple as Lucas Simm was, he did have many clients and hundreds of horses to train each day in each major race track across the country. Instead of being at dozens of places at once, Lucas had about ten other assistant trainers heading his stables, working for him and rising up to be trainers of their own. Jack was almost ready to spread his wings and graduate, becoming a trainer ready to run with the big names of Baffert and Lukas.

They were silent a moment, reading over the numerous choices before them. Cindy had never been to a Thai place and generally looked at the names with confusion, furrowing her eyebrows silently.

When she looked up, she started, realizing Jack had been looking at her, laughter written all over his face.

"What's so funny?" Cindy asked, grabbing her glass of water and taking a quick sip.

"Was I laughing?" Jack countered, feigning innocence.

"No, but you were getting a kick out of me."

"True enough," Jack nodded, smiling at her. "You want some help?"

"Please," Cindy nodded, leaning forward as he explained to her what was good and what all those stars meant.

"Nothing too spicy," Cindy insisted, shaking her head at the four star dishes.

"Wimp," Jack taunted. "Don't tell me you're going to have the Pad Thai."

"Well, it looks good," Cindy reasoned, frowning at the menu. "What's so wrong with it?"

"It's Pad Thai," Jack said, giving her a devilish look. "That's what."

"Oh, come on," Cindy laughed. "Really."

"For your first Thai experience I simply can't allow it. It's too plain."

"I don't think you can stop me," Cindy disputed, realizing she was flirting and not knowing quite how to stop it. It was almost infectious. So much so that she realized she didn't want to stop.

"You should get something spicy," Jack insisted, pointing her to the other side of the menu, grinning. "You'll like it."

"Oh?" Cindy asked, arching a thin eyebrow. "Maybe I will and maybe I won't."

Jack laughed and sat back, slipping them both into smooth conversation. Cindy wound up ordering a curry, wondering to herself if she was up to it. She had never particularly liked hot food, but Jack was relentless, and she gave in to it.

He watched her steadily as she took her first tastes, smiling and not bothering touching his food.

"You like it?"

Cindy grabbed her water and gulped it down, setting the glass down on the table with a loud thump. "Spicy."

"But good?"

Cindy nodded and let out a choked laugh, picking up her fork again. "What about you?"

"It's always good," Jack smiled, picking up a utensil and beginning to eat, observing her through the dim light.

They managed a steady stream of conversation, laughing loudly and telling each other various stories.

"Now, how did you find Mighty Man?" Cindy asked, wiping at her mouth with the cloth napkin. "What track was he at?"

"Del Mar, but I got him at Santa Anita," Jack said, beginning to play with his glass. "He was a beauty back then, and he still is for an older man, but his owners never realized his problems."

"What happened?" Cindy asked, thinking about Shining and her horrible condition before being brought to Whitebrook. She knew that many horses didn't lead the privileged lives of most racers she had worked with. She had a feeling Mighty Man was one of those.

"He was never abused exactly," Jack shrugged. "He just never did well enough to please his owners, who eventually sent him into a claiming race at Santa Anita, where I was working as an assistant trainer for Marcus Smith. Mighty didn't even finish the race."

"What happened to him?" Cindy asked, leaning forward to listen intently.

"His respiratory problem kicked in and got so bad the colt just faltered, ran into the rail, and went down. He broke a leg in the process. After they got him off the track, the owners didn't want to pay for the surgery, and the only other option was death. He wasn't claimed at the race, so I offered to buy him."

"And he went through surgery fine," Cindy assumed, raising both eyebrows.

"Yeah, like a champ," Jack laughed, shrugging. "He's been great ever since. No problems at all with the leg or the lungs."

"That's good," Cindy nodded, smiling. "He seems like a very content horse."

"Yeah, well, if I were living on the ocean every day I'd be content, too," Jack laughed, looking across the table at Cindy, who smiled along with him.

"It's your turn now. What about that Joy filly of yours?" Jack asked, folding his arms on the table.

"There isn't much to tell, really," Cindy said, immediately trying to dodge the subject. Joy had been a sore spot for years, something that Cindy kept inside, brooding over until she felt sick. Joy had been special, and something Cindy had let slip away. Much like Max in some respects.

"Right," Jack snorted, shaking his head. "If you think I'll believe that you've got to be kidding yourself."

Cindy sighed and gave him an angry look, only meeting a wide grin.

"Fine," Cindy groaned. "Her name was Glory's Joy. Ring a bell?"

The smile wiped off of Jack's face in an instant, being replaced with a look of shock. "Her sire was March to Glory," Jack said slowly, sitting back in his chair. "She was

supposed to be..."

"The winner of the Triple Tiara," Cindy finished for him. "In fact, she won the first two legs of the series, and she would've won the last."

"I believe you," Jack said, running a hand through his hair. "How is it that you came into ownership of that filly? She was a blue blood."

"I found her sire," Cindy said, laughing to herself now and not knowing why. "Ashleigh thought that since I had helped her train Glory to such spectacular wins that I should be the owner of his first foal born at Whitebrook."

"Joy," Jack assumed, still keeping his arms crossed over his chest.

They sat in silence for a moment before Jack muttered softly, "I heard what happened to her. I didn't know that was you."

"I really don't want to talk about it anymore," Cindy said, looking away, suddenly feeling like a thousand pound weight had just been dropped on her shoulders again. She hated that feeling more than anything in the world. That was the feeling that had made her, forced her, away from Whitebrook.

"Let's get out of here," Jack suddenly proposed, standing up and grabbing the check.

Cindy looked up, frowning. "Where are we going?"

"Someplace a little lighter," Jack said, leading Cindy away from the table. "It's getting a little too dark in here."

"This is your idea of lighter?" Cindy called above the music, sitting at the bar with a hand protectively around her screwdriver.

"Sure," Jack said, looking around him. He had brought her to Envy, a popular bar and dance club near the shoreline, flashing with brilliant lights and overflowing with moving bodies. Cindy frowned around her, picking up her drink and sipping half of it down. Screwdrivers tasted like candy to her, and the knowledge that the drink was mostly vodka didn't seem to stop her from taking large gulps.

"Take it easy, Cin," Jack said, grabbing the drink from her and setting it on the table. "Remember last time?"

"Yes," Cindy said, grabbing the glass back. "And I distinctly remember saying that if it were to happen again it wouldn't be so bad."

"Right," Jack laughed, going back to his scotch. "You weren't the one holding my hair back while I wretched in a garbage can."

"Stop," Cindy demanded, smiling as she drank the rest of the screwdriver and set it on the bar counter, turning to watch the writhing bodies longingly. The people were practically throbbing on the dance floor, completely unaware of where they were or what they were doing. Or perhaps they were acutely aware of what was going on.

"You want to go out there?" Jack asked, finishing off his scotch and turning, glancing out at the floor.

"I really don't know about that," Cindy shrugged, smiling timidly. "I think I've become strictly a bar girl in the past couple years."

"I can see that," Jack said, grabbing Cindy's hand and hauling her off her seat.

"Wait," Cindy nearly shouted over the music. "What are you doing?"

"What do you think?" Jack asked, pulling her along behind him. "It isn't really that hard."

"Jack!" Cindy cried as he practically threw her into the fray, following her in and pulling her up to him, pushing them through people.

"Jack this is completely off the wall," Cindy shouted, standing in the middle of the crowd, watching Jack dance around her. "I'm out of place here!"

"You're only making yourself out of place, Cin," Jack said, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her up to him. "Now. Dancing requires moving. I think you'd know about that from high school."

"Of course," Cindy sighed, waving a hand in the air dramatically. "But they really didn't allow this at high school."

"Of course not," Jack laughed, getting her to start moving.

"Besides," he said from behind her, voice close to her ear and more than just slightly suggestive. "I've seen you do this before, Cin. I know it's in there somewhere."

Immediately Cindy blushed, sending an elbow into his stomach lightly that he grinned at. She only glared at him as memories resurfaced. And he could see it in her as easily as she was broadcasting it. It hadn't been so long since they had danced.

"Humor me, Cin," Jack said, smiling and bending his head down to her.

"Humor you?" Cindy asked incredulously, feeling flushed and wanting that feeling to go away. They had agreed to never let anything happen again, and she had no idea why he was suddenly throwing that preciously fragile agreement to the wind. She could still hear the surf and feel the sand underneath her feet and him like it was yesterday. And it wasn't a comfortable notion. But then that little part of her raised its head and told her that it wouldn't be so bad to throw away reason for just one night. Even if it meant the awkwardness afterward.

Damn it, Cindy thought venomously. And damn him.

She turned her head away from him reluctantly and began to sway awkwardly to the music, feeling the loud base pulse through her as she began to dance. She watched the other people pressed around her, arms raised, smiles etched onto their faces, some with their eyes squeezed shut.

Finally Cindy threw her head back and joined in, jumping into the music with both feet. Jack chuckled just behind her, watching Cindy move around in front of him vigorously, no longer looking hesitant and unsure.

Cindy closed her eyes and felt the hot lights flash over her face. Then she began to smile.

"We're home," Jack said softly, turning off the rumbling Mustang and opening the door. Cindy nodded her head and pushed her door open, sliding out of the car as though it were parked inches away from a sharp precipice. She slammed the door shut and walked up to Jack, who stood waiting for her.

"Feeling okay?" Jack asked bluntly, watching her curiously. "We aren't going to have a situation like last time, are we?"

"I hope not," Cindy smiled, walking into the elevator with him, still feeling a bit giddy from the alcohol.

"Good," said Jack, who leaned against the elevator wall, watching Cindy sway pleasantly to the elevator music. They rode up to their floor and the cubical stopped, inching to a halt next to the metal doors. With a small chime, the doors slid open and Jack stood up, following Cindy out into the hallway.

"I had a good time," Cindy grinned, whirling around, her long blond hair floating around her head and falling on her shoulders. "Did you?"

"Uh-huh," Jack said, smiling at her slightly slurred words. Cindy began to rummage in her pockets, finding the hotel key card, and approached the door, but a strong hand on her arm suddenly stopped her.

"Wait," Jack muttered, pulling her away, the key card dropping from her hand. Cindy glanced down at the small piece of plastic and when she looked up there was Jack towering above her, looking down at her through his ice blue eyes.

"Yes, Jack?" Cindy asked, becoming acutely aware of her heart beat as he pushed another hand into her long hair, the look on his face so intense she didn't know what to do but stand stock still and anticipate the moment.

He shushed her and bent down, tipping her chin up and meeting her mouth with his. Both their eyes were open, as though gauging each other's reactions carefully, as though they didn't trust what they were doing. Finally, Cindy lowered her eyelids, carefully pushing forward to kiss him back.

He pushed her mouth open with his, weaving his hands through her hair, and she rose up on her toes, deepening the kiss there in the middle of the hallway.

Slowly he broke away, staring into Cindy's hazy eyes for an answer to his unspoken question. They stood there for a moment like that before Cindy began to regret. Then she began to pull away from him, looking around for the key card, refusing to look up at him.

"Good night, Jack," Cindy let out a hoarse whisper, bending down to grab the key card where it had fallen and slamming it into the lock, sending up a silent prayer when the small light on the door turned green. Jack watched her and made no attempt to stop her, which she silently thanked him for.

She let herself into the room and sunk against the door, burrowing her head into her hands.

What am I doing? Jack is a friend. He's like a brother. That is forbidden.

Cindy could hear the door on the opposite side of the hall open and close. The sound seemed to echo in her head, punctuating her thoughts.

It was just the alcohol, she told herself, remaining on the floor, staring at the carpet and her purse that she had thrown carelessly before her. It was just the alcohol.

Yet in the back of her mind she knew the answer to his question and she tried to shake it away, but it refused to be forgotten. Silently, she slid down the door, curling up on the carpet with her fingers pressed to her lips.


	13. Stop

13.

"Stop"

Cindy woke late, blinking blearily and stretching unconsciously, feeling her back nudge up against the door. With a start, she remembered everything from last night. And foremost in her mind was the kiss that had seemed to shatter everything. Cindy didn't know exactly why she found it so disturbing. They had always teetered between serious flirting and friendship, of course, and had kissed once before. It had been during the spring meet at Gulfstream, and they had both chalked it up as a mistake due to alcohol and mixed emotions. This time, however, everything seemed much more serious. It was that feeling that scared Cindy.

Cindy grumbled to herself and ran both hands through her greasy hair, knowing she needed a shower as she rose to both feet, pressing her back to the door.

"Christ," she muttered, pulling off her shoes and tossing them by the bed as she walked to the bathroom. It was like she was on autopilot, her thoughts scattered as her body performed the functions it knew so well. Before Cindy realized it, she had turned on the shower, gotten her work clothes, and was pulling the red shirt over her head.

She stepped into the warm jet of water, standing there and letting the soothing liquid run over her, soaking her hair and dissolving the small bits of make up she had used last night. It occurred to her that Lucas was probably going to kill her when she got to the track. She was already thirty minutes late, but just the prospect of seeing Jack at the barns made Cindy want to slow down her routine as much as possible.

She managed to drag it out for another ten minutes, pulling on her jeans, tank top, and boots. Wandering around the room looking for her cell phone cost her five more, and getting down to the parking garage added on another precious five. At this point, Cindy knew well, Lucas was probably jumping out of his skin and considering another rider to take Watchmaker around the track. She wasn't very concerned about that, since it had never happened, and probably never would.

Cindy walked calmly down to her car, a silver Lexus rental, and started the engine, backed out, and was on the streets of Los Angeles, roaring toward Santa Anita. The city was just beginning to wake up, and Cindy didn't have much of a crowd to contend with. She was used to the traffic anyway. After all, she had been living in Manhattan for the last ten years. The shock had worn away quickly.

Sooner than Cindy realized, she was coming up on Santa Anita, the large race track looming along the side of her car. She flicked on the blinker and turned into the backside, flashing her hang tag by the guard as she went.

She pulled through the large expanse of gravel, rolling slowly toward Lucas' barn and parking outside, next to Jack's Mustang.

Pulling off her sunglasses, Cindy stepped from the car and grabbed her chaps before slamming the door shut. When she made it into the barn Lucas was standing next to Watchmaker's stall, arms crossed and a frown turning down his mouth.

"Where the hell have you been?" Lucas exclaimed as soon as Cindy walked into the dimly lit building, wrapping her chaps around her legs. The sound of Lucas' voice stopped her in mid-stride and she glanced up, giving Lucas a small smile.

"Traffic was bad?" She tried, attempting to use a little humor to get off the hook. She only succeeding in receiving a deeper scowl.

"I've got three news crews outside expecting to see Watchmaker work this morning, and you come in late," Lucas groaned, tossing up his hands in exasperation. "In Reason has already put in a fine work for them, along with that Townsend King colt, and I'm left handing out excuses."

Cindy moaned and shook her head, knowing how much Lucas hated dealing with large crews of reporters, especially the demanding groups that seemed to suddenly pop up around the Kentucky Derby and the Breeder's Cup and then disappear again.

"We've got the Santa Anita Derby in less than two weeks and they're looking for some action," Lucas went on, turning as the clopping of hooves began to echo through the barn. It was Jack, leading a tacked up and very high strung Watchmaker.

At the sight of Jack, Cindy's face immediately went red. Desperately, she tried to ignore him and come up with a logical sentence.

"I, uh," she began, watching Jack coming closer with Watchmaker, the colt dancing animatedly next to his side, tossing his scarlet mane.

"I don't know what to tell you, Lucas," Cindy said, becoming more flustered as Jack watched her, no signs of amusement on his face. "But I'm here and we can start the work, if you want."

"Alright," Lucas sighed, running his hands through his hair. "If I'm going to manage training two Derby contenders and not have a heart attack I'll be amazed," he added, nodding to Jack.

Cindy breathed a sigh of relief as Jack turned the colt, following Lucas out to the track. Cindy tagged along behind, still tying up her chaps with shaking fingers, finding it almost impossible to get the things on her legs.

As soon as they were out of the barn the reporters were swarming, asking questions a mile a minute. Lucas did his best to shield Cindy from any questions regarding her ride in the San Felipe, directing questions to Watchmaker's health, which was undeniably good, and to Well's Station, who had came in a rallying second to Up to Heaven in the Gotham at Aqueduct, the colt's home track. Lucas' other colt was scheduled to come back in the Wood Memorial, and most people believed he would be the favorite.

Watchmaker paused for the cameras, turning his eagle-like head at the cluster of reporters and photographers, blinking at the flashes of light accompanying the metallic clicks of the cameras. The scarlet colt glowed red under the rising sun, his well-groomed tail swishing like saffron as Jack led the colt in a small circle, calming his nerves as Lucas talked to the microphones.

"Do you have any concern about Russian Winter, the Whitebrook colt heading to the Bluegrass?" One woman asked, tape recorder in hand.

"It's a little too soon for any concern over that," Lucas said, nodding for Jack to lead Watchmaker down to the track. "Russian Winter is a very serious threat, but we still have one race to get in before the Derby, and they're still in different states."

Cindy smiled to herself, knowing that Lucas was very much afraid of going up against Russian Winter in the Derby. There were so many qualified colts this year that the Derby was looking more and more like a war waiting to happen. Everyone knew that Watchmaker couldn't simply dance through the Derby. In the back of Cindy's mind, she was just happy that the colt had qualified for the great race. Her only hope was that he would do well in the Santa Anita Derby to make his chances concrete.

"Now," Lucas said, nudging Cindy to the track, "I'm going to go down and watch my colt work. You're welcome to watch."

The group slowly moved down to the track, Cindy and Lucas hurrying before them so they could get Watchmaker out before the small school of reporters came any closer. Cindy kept her head down when they reached Jack, refusing to look up at him, keeping her gaze firmly pointed away from his form. She could feel his eyes on her as Lucas gave her a leg up, lifting her up into Watchmaker's saddle.

Quickly, she gathered the reins and heeled Watchmaker out on the track, hearing Lucas' words only vaguely from the gap.

Cindy gripped the reins tightly, leaning forward in the saddle as the colt trotted smoothly up the track, staying on the outside as other horses moved by on the inside rail, galloping out in singles or pairs. Watchmaker snorted eagerly and arched his neck, pulling the reins through Cindy's fingers.

"Shush," Cindy crooned, pulling back, feeling the strain in her arms and back, her shoulder beginning to ache a little under the colt's pressure.

Watchmaker suddenly ducked in, dancing sideways across the track in response to her, tossing his head and flicking his ears forward, breaking stride and jumping, giving Cindy a hard time.

"Stop it," Cindy warned through clenched teeth, pulling Watchmaker's head up and slowing him, tightening the reins in her hands and heading him to the outside again, setting him into a trot. She glanced over her shoulder when she knew the colt had calmed down, seeing Lucas and Jack by the rail, their eyes on her and the red colt. Cindy could feel the blood rush to her cheeks at Jack's gaze, and she turned around immediately, urging Watchmaker into a strong canter.

Watchmaker grunted eagerly, flicking his tail as he slid into the easy gait, floating softly over the tilled dirt, keeping one ear cocked back on Cindy and another focused on the horses running to his left. Cindy hovered over the colt, feeling nothing of his rocking gait, only keeping her eyes straight ahead, trying to be prepared for anything that might happen. But her mind wasn't on the track. Her eyes kept flicking over to the gap, monitoring Jack, thinking about how she could avoid having to talk to him.

Suddenly Watchmaker ducked again, pulling hard on the reins as another colt sped by on the inside, pounding against the dirt in a fast breeze.

"Whoa!" Cindy called, sitting down in the saddle as Watchmaker skittered across the track, fighting against Cindy's hold, desperately trying to lengthen his stride and fly after the other colt. Watchmaker squealed and reared up, turning and falling back to the ground, following up with a little buck of excitement. Cindy stayed on, weaving her fingers into the colt's mane for support.

She managed to pull the colt down to a walk, putting a hand on his quivering neck. Watchmaker looked around him excitedly, pricking his ears after the colt, huffing anxiously.

"And here I thought you were a gentleman," Cindy groaned, starting the colt back into a trot, shaking her head. She knew that it wasn't Watchmaker's fault. All racehorses were anxious, nervous, and highly competitive creatures. Then there was the fact that she wasn't even concentrating on the track. Watchmaker had caught her off-guard twice, and had let her know it.

When she rode toward the gap, she could see Lucas waving her in, an obvious scowl on his face. Cindy frowned too, disappointed with herself as much as Lucas probably was. She shouldn't have allowed Jack to jump into her mind during a work for the Santa Anita Derby. There were reporters everywhere recording her every move, and the display she just created with Watchmaker wasn't what Lucas had in mind.

"You okay?" Lucas called as soon as she made it to the gap, sighing and face visibly red.

"Yeah," Cindy nodded. "He's just a little excited," she added, knowing that excuse wouldn't fly under any normal circumstances. But the reporters gathered at the rail seemed to like the explanation and waited expectantly for anything else.

"Well, let's work some of it out of him, then," Lucas said, still frowning. "Take him around again at a gallop, but try to keep it controlled."

Cindy nodded, her red flush growing deeper. She hated looking like a fool, and especially in front of the press.

Watchmaker wheeled around and Cindy heeled him into a gallop, heading to the inside of the track, where the red colt desperately had wanted to be. Now he was there, and loving every minute of it. The crimson colt galloped out, pushing Cindy's limits, tugging on the reins with each stride and begging for more.

Cindy kept him at hand this time, letting the colt run, but keeping him checked, marveling at his ferocity after losing the San Felipe.

Watchmaker rounded the turn again and started to work back up to the gap, ears flattened to his head in concentration, digging into the ground and stretching out, upping the speed a little more than Cindy wanted.

She tugged him back down to a slow gallop, then a canter as they approached the gap again. This time Lucas looked a little relieved, loosening his death grip on the white railing.

"Better?" Cindy asked, slowing the still excited colt at the gap, smiling at Lucas and trying to keep her eyes from drifting to Jack, who seemed to always be staring at her now.

"Much," Lucas said, stepping out onto the track to take the colt's head as Cindy jumped down, patting Watchmaker's chest.

The reporters began to drift away, heading back to the grandstand or through to the backside to find another small tidbit of information for their publications. Cindy smiled as Watchmaker stretched out his head, bumping Cindy in the side hard, nickering quietly as Lucas pulled the reins over his head.

She looked into his sweet brown eyes and leaned down to kiss the colt's nose, only to be shoved backward as Watchmaker took a step forward, nudging her affectionately.

"Hey!" Cindy cried, laughing, keeping her back to Jack.

"Cindy!"

She turned around, her hand still on the colt's nose. John, one of the full time grooms in Lucas' barn, was jogging up to her, a cell phone in his hand. Cindy frowned and realized that it was her cell phone he was carrying to her, the red phone unmistakably hers. She always kept her cell phone on in Lucas' office while she was on the track. Some horses spooked at the odd noises they made, and as a rider it was pointless to carry it with her anyway.

"Yeah?" She asked, walking off the track.

"You've got a call," John said, handing her the phone.

"Thanks," Cindy smiled at him, walking quickly away from the group and into the barn before putting it to her ear.

"Hello?" She asked, hearing the echo of her own voice.

"Cindy," she heard a woman's voice. "Thank goodness I got a hold of you. I barely remembered your cell number."

It was Ashleigh, and Cindy stopped mid stride, frowning into the red phone.

"Congratulations on your Florida Derby win," Cindy said after a small pause of wondering what she should say. "I saw it on television."

"Thanks," Ashleigh laughed. "Russ is a fantastic colt. It still shocks me that people are talking Triple Crown with him, though."

Cindy couldn't help but roll her eyes, trying to keep herself from sighing into the phone. "So, what's up, Ashleigh?" She asked instead, cutting right to the point.

"I've got a proposition for you," Ashleigh said through a little static. She must be out at the track, or in a car, Cindy though to herself through the surprise of getting a proposition from Ashleigh Griffen. She hadn't been asked to do anything for Ashleigh since riding Honor in the Gazelle so many years ago.

"What would that be?" Cindy asked, stopping at Akota's stall, rubbing the colt's bay head.

"Well, first you have to tell me if you'd be willing to come back to Kentucky sometime soon," Ashleigh said, and Cindy knew she meant Whitebrook.

"Well, if it was something urgent," Cindy shrugged to herself, scratching Akota's bottom lip. The bay colt closed his eyes and moved into Cindy's hand, grunting appreciatively.

"It is urgent, Cindy," Ashleigh said, voice low. "You see, I fell off Russ about a week ago and broke my wrist."

"What about the Derby?" Cindy asked, shocked for once. She had always suspected that Ashleigh was getting too old to ride, but then she was still competing against men in their fifties. It didn't surprise her that Ashleigh was insisting on riding for Whitebrook.

"I'll be fine for the Derby," Ashleigh said quickly, her voice suddenly harsh. "It's just that we need someone for the Blue Grass. It's on April 14th and I figured you may be free to ride that day, with Watchmaker running in the Santa Anita Derby."

Cindy was silent for a moment, thinking about what Ashleigh was offering her. She wanted her to ride Russian Winter in the Blue Grass Stakes, one of the last big preps before the Kentucky Derby. It could be a great experiment, she knew, learning the little quirks of Watchmaker's main competition in preparation for the Derby and using them to her own colt's benefit. Then again, she would have to return to Whitebrook, where Russian Winter was no doubt being trained.

"When would I have to be down there?" She asked suddenly, realizing that she was actually considering it.

"No later than the eighth of April, just after Watchmaker's race. Christina is riding Russ now, but I need him to get used to his new rider before the Blue Grass."

Ashleigh sounded nervous, like she didn't trust her own decision.

Cindy stood for a long moment, considering her options. The more she thought about it, the less it seemed like a bad idea. It would be great for her career to ride what people were calling the next Triple Crown winner, and it would be even better for Watchmaker when she came back, armed with new information. She almost felt like a spy getting ready to go under cover.

"Okay," Cindy said slowly, still wondering if she was doing the right thing, wondering if by going back she was opening a Pandora's box of horrors.

"Great!" Ashleigh exclaimed, chuckling into the phone. "Call me with your flight arrangements and I'll make sure to meet you at the airport."

"Sure," Cindy said, nodding to herself, thinking how surreal this all was. "I'll get back to you later today."

"Alright," Ashleigh said, "I'll talk to you then."

"Okay," Cindy said, still not believing what she had done. "I'll call you later."

"Oh, and Cindy," Ashleigh said, voice going low again. "I want to say thank you for this. I'll try to make it up to you."

"Don't worry about it, Ashleigh," Cindy shook her head. "It'll be a treat to ride your colt. Kinda like old times."

"Right," Ashleigh said, letting out a quick laugh. "Bye for now, Cin."

"Bye, Ashleigh."

She pulled the red cell phone from her ear and punched the end button, wondering how many minutes she used up.


	14. The Storm

14.

"The Storm"

Cindy led a sweat soaked Watchmaker from the track later that week, smiling broadly. The red chestnut colt had just put in a shattering time for the six furlongs in a minute and ten seconds, which was almost the fastest workout of the day. The only thing that concerned her was that Townsend King had almost beaten Watchmaker's time, showing off his stuff just as effortlessly.

It wasn't much to pay attention to, and Cindy knew better than to dwell on that fact. But seeing Brad's frown at the track irked her to no end. No horse would ever be perfect enough for that man. She felt sorry that Townsend King was under Brad's ownership, and half the time she wondered what would happen to the poor gray if he didn't do well in the upcoming classic races. The Townsends were known for their strict policy regarding studs. Only the best came to stand at Townsend Acres.

Watchmaker nudged her playfully and pranced on slender legs, nickering eagerly at something Cindy couldn't figure out.

"All right," Cindy laughed, turning the colt around the corner. "You'll get your bath."

She stopped Watchmaker next to Akota, who was also being hosed down after his work. The groom smiled politely at her and continued to work on the dark bay, rubbing the colt's body with a sopping wet sponge.

Cindy smiled at Akota, who had run to a victory in the Santa Anita Handicap a few weeks earlier, snatching the win by a small margin. Watching the race had only reminded Cindy of the two colts who had gone down in the Strub. Fit to Wonder was recovering well, but Mr. Perfect, Mr. Wonderful's foal, had been put down shortly after surgery. Thinking about that fall brought the painful images back to her mind, but she shoved them away quickly, refusing to be reminded about that sickening scene.

Watchmaker grunted as Cindy brought the cool water up over his body, washing away all the sweat and sticky lather from his chest and neck.

"Hey, Cin," she heard a deep voice behind her, and she whirled around, seeing Jack towering above her.

"I thought you were going to an auction with the Dearharts," Cindy said, turning back to the colt, trying to hide the rushing flush in her cheeks. She had managed to avoid Jack for so long it seemed like he wasn't even around anymore, but with the Dearharts in for the Derby things were changing quickly.

"I am," Jack said, leaning against the barn wall. "But that doesn't start until eleven and it's only nine now."

"Yeah, but you know LA traffic. It will take an hour just to get there," Cindy muttered, watching the groom finish up with Akota and lead the bay colt out to the walkers.

"Something tells me you're trying to avoid me," Jack said in a low voice from behind her.

Cindy snorted and looked at him over her shoulder, throwing up her heavy mental shields, disguising what she could. "That's ridiculous, Jack," she admonished. "Why on earth would I do that?"

"Because of that little episode in the hallway," Jack said immediately, crossing his arms and chuckling. "You've been avoiding me since that day. So I have to ask you, what's up?"

"Nothing is up, Jack," Cindy groaned, glancing back at him. "I'm not trying to avoid you, and even if I was it's not about that."

"That which we have been battling for over a year now or that as in the episode in the hallway?" Jack asked, pushing away from the barn wall and walking around Watchmaker, standing on the opposite side of the colt, staring directly at Cindy. "Because either way I think we need to revise the plan of action."

Cindy only glared at him from over Watchmaker's back. "Why do we have to do that? Let's just move on. It's not like we can't forget it. We forgot the time before, and we can forget this too."

"Are you kidding me?" Jack shot back, narrowing his own dusky blue eyes. "Cindy, you are a mystifying woman."

"Yeah, it just adds to the allure," Cindy growled, soaping up the sponge and working it into Watchmaker's coat, the colt blissfully unaware of the argument passing over his back. The red colt was only aware of the gentle pressure massaging over his aching shoulders, pushing all that stiffness from his breeze away.

"Cindy," Jack uttered threateningly, but before he could get anything out, a strangled cry startled Watchmaker out of his daze, making the colt jerk back, nearly rearing in fright as Cindy and Jack both jumped, everyone in the backside turning to where the cry had come.

Before Cindy could even think straight she had her hands on Watchmaker, calming the nervous colt, who was now a bundle of raw nerves.

"Whoa!" Cindy called as Watchmaker shook his head, trying to rear up.

"Shit," she heard Jack growl, turning his back to Cindy and beginning to run. When she looked up, her eyes went wide with horror. There, running full speed through the gravel pit of the backside, was Townsend King, mane and tail flying behind him wildly, his lead shank jumping around his head like a crazy snake striking at the gray colt's legs.

"Oh no," she whispered, watching Jack and several others running to stop the colt from heading toward the busy Los Angeles roads. The gray was skipping around them, flying past Cindy and Watchmaker, who was skittering around Cindy, head thrown up, eyes ringed in white as Townsend King flashed by, the lead tangling around his forelegs.

Suddenly, before Cindy's eyes, the gray colt tripped, his head ducking down as his whole body kicked up in the air, his legs crumpling underneath his weight as the colt thudded and slid on the sharp gravel, coming to a writhing stop, his legs flailing for purchase.

"Get him up!" she could hear Jack shouting, running to the colt. King's head was twisting high in the air, his eyes wild, bellowing thick screams only mere yards from Watchmaker, who fought against Cindy, whinnying shrilly, dancing around her and rearing.

"Whoa!" Cindy yelled again, gripping onto the lead line harder, trying to haul the shocked colt toward the barn, but Watchmaker wasn't having any of it, his soapy red body quivered with fright as he wheeled around, kicking up gravel with each step.

King was still on the ground, Jack and several others trying to urge the colt to his feet.

"What the hell is going on here!" Cindy heard Brad's voice rise with command over the confusion. Cindy whirled around and saw the older man silhouetted against the barn door, walking out with stiff strides to see the gray colt on the ground.

Jack looked up just as he finally got King to roll over, the colt spreading out his legs and shoving himself up, dust from the gravel all over his sweat soaked body. The colt spooked again and whirled around, showing Cindy the small bloody wounds on his other side and she winced, seeing the cuts from hundreds of sharp rocks. Jack held fast, calming King as Brad walked up, frowning angrily at the colt and the people surrounding it.

"He's limping," Brad said casually, glaring at the colt's left foreleg, looking expectantly to Jack, who only glared back. Finally, Jack handed the lead to another man next to him and leaned down, running his hands over the colt's leg, lingering softly on King's delicate cannon bone.

"It's broken," Cindy could hear Jack say with disgust, standing up and brushing off his hands on his beat up jeans. Watchmaker finally settled down next to Cindy, watching with curiosity as King was moved off to the Townsend barn as Cindy stood gaping, not believing what she had just heard.

"Get the ambulance here," Brad snapped, standing nearby as one of his grooms handled the colt. Jack shook his head and walked back to Cindy, running his hands through his dark hair.

"Broken?" Cindy squeaked, still staring at the unusually placid King, her eyes wavering between the broken colt and Jack.

"Looks like it," Jack muttered, stopping in front of Watchmaker, the crimson colt reaching out and nuzzling his arm. Jack let out a cold laugh and rubbed the colt's wet head before looking at Cindy again.

Cindy scowled forward, letting Jack pry the lead line from her fingers to take the colt back to the hose, finishing off Cindy's job for her. She let him do it. She was too busy staring at the gray colt as several attendants began to load him into the horse ambulance, Brad standing like a statue in the shade of the barn door.

Cindy sat in her car, frowning at the rain pattering softly on the windshield, creating a sheet of water flowing slowly down the glass. Before her was the Santa Anita Equine Clinic, the lights inside shining brightly through the storm that had suddenly spread over Los Angeles.

It was early evening, and Townsend King had just come out of surgery. Nothing had been said yet about the colt's plans after the injury was healed, but Cindy knew as well as everyone else that the colt's career as a racer was over.

Sighing deeply, Cindy opened the door of the Lexus and jumped out, sprinting across the parking lot to the front door, throwing it open and shaking the wetness from her heavy hair.

"Can I help you?" Asked the receptionist, looking up with a frown. "We're about to close."

"I came to look in on Townsend King," Cindy inquired, walking up to the desk. "My name is Cindy McLean."

The receptionist squinted her eyes as Cindy and shook her head. "Only faculty and owners are allowed back in the recovery stables. I'm sorry."

"I know Max Smith," Cindy suddenly blurted, pressing her fingers against the counter. "And the owners. Are they still here?"

"Doctor Smith is still in with the colt, as are his owners," the receptionist nodded, then sighed. "Hold on one moment, I'll page him."

Cindy smiled appreciatively, wondering to herself why she was here in the first place. There was just something urging her to go visit the beautiful gray, a nagging concern that had been eating at her ever since she saw Brad's face while they were loading King into the ambulance. It was like feeling her feet fall out from under her when she remembered that look, and the pitiful sight of the gray limping up the ramp to the large van.

"Cindy?" She heard Max's voice and she turned around, seeing him closing a door behind him.

"Max," Cindy smiled, nervously pushing away from the counter.

"Why are you here?" Max questioned, walking up to her briskly, his white coat swishing around his legs.

"I wanted to check in on Townsend King," Cindy explained, watching him closely. "I wanted to see for myself that he was okay."

"He's fine," Max frowned, touching Cindy's arm lightly. "He came out of surgery like a champ. What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Cindy shrugged, laughing nervously. "I just don't have a good feeling."

"Why?" Max asked, beginning to smile. "That colt is going to be like new when he gets through this."

"Will he be able to race?" Cindy asked, eyes imploring.

"Well," Max sighed, shrugging. "Time will tell, but my initial response would be to say no."

Cindy nodded, frowning, thinking about what the Townsend's options were now.

"Why does this all matter to you?" Max asked, taking a step back and looking down at her. Frowning with concern.

"I don't know," Cindy groaned. "I've been visiting him occasionally and I just wanted to see him. I'm worried, is all."

Max looked at her for a moment and finally nodded. "Alright. Let's go back and check him out."

Cindy smiled, "Really?"

"Yeah," Max nodded, leading her to the door he had just walked out of. "I'm warning you, though. We've got the Townsends back there with him. If you want to walk into the lion's den, fine with me. Just don't blame me afterwards."

"I won't," Cindy nodded, looking forward with a stony gaze, preparing herself for Brad and Lavinia. She had gotten this far, and she wasn't going to let them turn her back.

Max led her back to the recovery stalls, turning into an aisle bordered by sleek Thoroughbreds. He glanced back at her, as though making sure she was still with him. Cindy smiled out of nervousness and followed him, turning into the aisle and immediately seeing Brad and Lavinia standing at the end, by a stall, engrossed in a heated argument.

Cindy winced as she heard Lavinia's loud voice.

"No one will pay for shares of his stud fee," Cindy heard Lavinia argue, "and we both know that he's only won two stakes races in his life. There isn't even a chance for large scale syndication. No money is to be taken from keeping him."

"But we may have room," Brad argued back, not yet aware that Max and Cindy were walking up the aisle. "I'll speak to my father about this. Our stud group could be culled. One or two of those studs may need to be pensioned anyway after this spring."

"But why would we make room for him!" Lavinia cried, rubbing her temples with her slim fingers. "He doesn't have the same sort of reputation as those other studs. He'd be a nobody next to them, and we both know that Townsend Acres can't very well keep such an unaccomplished colt in its stud barn."

"Lavinia," Brad warned, shaking his head, glancing over at the stall, looking up to see Cindy and Max walking up the aisle. At the sight of Cindy, his mouth hardened into a firm line.

"I thought only faculty and owners were allowed back in this area," Brad said threateningly to Max, turning to stare pointedly at Cindy.

"Usually," Max nodded, walking up to the stall and letting himself in. "But Cindy here wanted to take some time to see if the colt was okay."

"He's fine," Lavinia hissed threateningly, pushing her styled blond hair behind her shoulders and crossing her arms.

Cindy ignored her and walked up to King's stall, taking a peek inside. The gray colt stood in the corner, head low, eyes drooping. There was a heavy cast enclosing his left foreleg, looking painful and unnatural. Max checked the colt over, finally nodding and letting himself back out of the stall.

"Still looking good," Max said, nodding to himself. "I'd say you can fly back with him in a few weeks."

"If we're going back with him at all," Lavinia muttered under her breath, getting a sharp look from Brad.

"What do you mean?" Cindy asked, whirling around, knowing full well what Lavinia meant.

"None of your business," Brad sneered, beginning to look bored, or anxious, glancing around the stall restlessly.

"Like she couldn't figure it out for herself," Lavinia snorted, rolling her eyes dramatically. "You full well know that there isn't enough room at Townsend Acres for King, and especially since he did so little."

"But he was on the Triple Crown trail," Cindy exclaimed, raising her eyebrows. "That's surprising."

"We're selective," Brad said, stopping his restlessness.

"What will you do?" Cindy asked, wondering if Lavinia would just leave King in some third string auction.

"Selling him is a possibility," Brad sighed, running his hands through his dark hair. "I'm not going to take him to auction. That would be a complete embarrassment."

Cindy stood there for a moment, silent, listening to Townsend King shifting his weight in the stall. The Townsends were really considering selling King. She could hardly believe it, but at the same time it seemed so natural for them. Of course they weren't going to waste their time on a colt like King. He hadn't even made it to the big time yet, and his pedigree, as suited for the classic distance as it was, definitely didn't hold up to some of the other stallions the Townsends had standing at stud.

Then Cindy's brain seemed to click and she opened her mouth before she could stop herself.

"I'll buy him," she said softly. So softly that Brad had to stop and ask her what she said.

She repeated it and everyone silenced. Even Max was struck dumb, standing next to Cindy gaping as though he'd just watched her sprout two more heads.

"You're offering to buy my colt," Brad said slowly after a minute, as though trying to get it right.

"Yes," Cindy said, trying to look certain, keeping her eyes on his, refusing to look away. Brad stared back, balanced on the heels of his feet, considering her deal.

"Just like that, you'll buy him," Brad said again after a little longer.

"Yes," Cindy nodded. "How much?"

At that Brad finally laughed, shaking his head. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm not kidding you," Cindy insisted, going to her purse. "I'll pay you what you ask for. I'm good for it. You have to know that."

Brad's laughter subsided and he looked at her firmly, finally nodding. "Yes. I guess you are good for it."

"Well?" Cindy asked, cocking her head to the side. "What's the price?"

"You're not really thinking of doing this," Lavinia threatened, staring in shock as she realized Brad was actually considering it.

"You said yourself that Townsend Acres can't keep a horse of no reputation," Brad told his wife. "King has little reputation, and especially outside of California."

Cindy looked back and forth between the two as they discussed it, making Cindy wish they would just come to a decision already. Finally Lavinia ended it with: "Fine. I'm sure we could've done better, though."

Brad sighed and turned back to Cindy, suddenly eager with the prospects of a business deal.

"Here's what I have in mind," he said, looking behind Cindy at the colt, who was still dozing on his feet, blissfully unaware of his future. "You pay us 500 straight out," Brad told Cindy, pausing to think. Cindy arched her eyebrow at the number, knowing Brad had three zeros attached to the end of the figure.

"And?" Cindy asked, trying to act like she did such deals every day. She didn't want Brad to get the best of her, but then she didn't really care if it meant the ownership of King.

"And Townsend Acres retains forty percent of his stud fees, if you do decide to put him to stud," Brad said, nodding, pleased with his arrangement.

"Forty percent?" Cindy asked, frowning.

"You would have the other sixty, and the final say in where he stood and who he's bred to. All you have to do is give us forty perfect of his stud fee," Brad explained to her as though she didn't know the breeding business. Cindy sighed.

"How about thirty?" She asked, pulling out her check book.

"This is non-negotiable," Brad laughed, enjoying himself. "I make the calls here, Cindy. Do you want him or not?"

"Oh, I want him," Cindy nodded, scribbling out the sum on the top check and ripping it off the book, holding the flimsy paper before him.

"Full say in King," Cindy said, getting Brad to nod his head. "And when would I receive his papers?"

"As soon as I can get home. I'll have them shipped to your New York address," Brad said curtly, watching Cindy carefully.

"Well it's a deal then," Cindy smiled, handing him the check. Brad took the check and meticulously folded it, ignoring Lavinia's sharp gaze.

"It looks like we're going home," Brad said, sliding the check into his business suit pocket, turning to his wife. Lavinia gave him a tight smile and turned on her heel, heading to the door. Cindy watched her go, trying to keep herself from grinning. Lavinia had never been on her good side, and she had never expected the conceited woman to change.

"Good doing business with you," Cindy grinned, watching Brad leave after her, throwing open the door and closing it behind him.

Cindy felt light as a feather as the elevator lifted her up, dinging quietly as it reached her floor. She practically skipped through the opening doors, walking down the hallway happily, jangling her car keys in her hand.

She had just bought King, and it seemed that nothing could've made her happier at that moment.

When she got to her door, she paused, turning to look across the aisle at Jack's door, wondering if he was in. Cindy was in such a happy mood that she let her earlier attitude slip away from her mind and she walked confidently across the aisle, knocking on his door.

After a few moments, the door opened and Jack stood before her, his tall body blocking her view into the room. He looked a little disheveled from sleep, and only then did Cindy realize that it was well past midnight. She had been so engrossed with looking in on her horse, her own horse, that time had skipped by without notice.

"Cindy?" Jack muttered, rubbing his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Cindy smiled up at him brilliantly, stepping underneath his outstretched arm holding back the door. "Nothing's wrong at all."

"Then what's going on?" Jack asked, following her into the room and letting the door close on its own.

"Guess what I just did?" Cindy asked, hopping on the bed and looking up at him cheerfully.

"Well, it's too late for you to be this happy. Are you drunk?" Jack asked, falling on the same bed, stretching out and closing his eyes.

"Nope," Cindy grinned, nudging his bare foot. "I went to visit King."

"Why did you do that?" Jack asked, keeping his eyes closed.

"I really don't know," Cindy said, cocking her head to the side, smiling at him. "Maybe it's because I just knew what the Townsends were planning for him. I never thought they had good intentions for that colt."

"Uh-huh," Jack nodded sleepily, snuggling into the covers.

"So I went over there and I offered to buy him," Cindy laughed, remembering the look on Lavinia's face. Yes, Cindy had wanted to say. This little orphan did turn out to be something after all.

"You did what?" Jack asked, opening his eyes to look at her. "You offered to buy him? They didn't except, did they?"

"Of course they did," Cindy smiled. "Townsend King is now completely mine."

"You're kidding me," Jack said, sitting up, looking at Cindy carefully. "You bought Townsend King."

"Yes."

"And you know he's never going to race again."

"Yes."

"So, why did you do this?" Jack asked, looking at Cindy like she was crazy.

"I don't know," Cindy sighed, throwing her head back and pulling her hair out of its ponytail. "I guess he reminded me so much of Glory and Joy. I couldn't have the Townsends just throw him away like that. He deserves better."

Jack stared at her for a minute and shrugged, "What are you going to do with him?"

"I don't know yet," Cindy laughed, still high on happiness. "I'll figure all that out when he's ready to leave the clinic. Max said that he should be free to leave in a couple of weeks."

"Max?" Jack asked, and Cindy stilled, remembering that Jack didn't know about Max's existence.

"Yeah," she said slowly, keeping the smile on her face, wondering if she should care about Jack knowing about Max. "He's just this guy I used to know."

"You mean dated," Jack corrected her. "I saw him leave the barn just before we left for the beach. I figured it had to be about him."

"You're a sly one," Cindy said, surprised.

"So what did Max have to say?" Jack asked, falling back down on the bed and closing his eyes, leaving Cindy feeling awkwardness replacing her giddiness. Then she found herself wondering why she should care about Jack knowing Max. They were friends, after all. Nothing more. But no matter how many times she had told herself that she was still going to be careful.

"Well," she said slowly. "He's going to help me out with King," she said, trying to come up with snippets of her long conversation she had had with Max earlier, after the Townsends had left.

"Uh-huh," Jack said, cracking an eye. "Come on, Cin. You can do better than that."

Cindy frowned at him and sighed. "He's getting married next spring," Cindy tried, crawling up closer to Jack's head, looking down at him and giving him a smile as he opened his eyes further, watching her carefully.

"How do you feel about that?" Jack asked, closing his eyes again.

"I don't know," Cindy admitted, shrugging. "I try to think that it wouldn't have been me in that girl's place. I don't know yet if it should bother me."

"Do you want to be in that girl's place?" Jack asked, keeping his eyes closed, face carefully serene, as though he didn't care. Cindy tried to look past that, but Jack was good at it, and left Cindy flustered.

"Ultimately, no," Cindy sighed, shaking her head. "Max and I are too different. And then there was my globetrotting career as a jockey. Max could never handle that. He's marrying a large animal vet and they want to put together an equine clinic of their own. He seems really happy. I think he's definitely much better off without me around."

Jack suddenly opened his eyes and looked up at her, startling Cindy.

"No one is better off without you around," He said, making her blush.

"Right," Cindy scoffed, laughing quietly and nudging Jack's arm.

"You want to talk now?" He asked, reaching up and burying a large hand in her wild blond hair, making Cindy's blush deepen.

"We are talking," Cindy attempted, trying to swerve the conversation away from the sore spot that had been festering far too long.

"Cindy," Jack said, his fingers weaving through the hair at the back of her head. "Don't play dumb with me."

"Jack," she started, suddenly very aware that they were on his bed. It didn't seem like a good place to strike up an intimate conversation. "You know it wasn't meant to happen."

"How's that?" Jack asked, frowning. "We've known each other for years, and we've been playing around like this from the very beginning. Frankly, I'm tired of it."

Cindy's eyes widened, feeling his fingers against her neck and her skull, lightly moving over her skin.

"But this can't happen," Cindy persisted. "We work together and we're friends. There's too much at stake here."

"So you'd be content with this thing that was never dealt with?" Jack asked her, pulling her closer to him. "This happened back in Florida and look where it got us. We couldn't act right around each other for months. Then we come here and it all starts over again. We have to do something with it this time, Cin."

Cindy was at a loss for words. Jack had left her with no valid arguments, and she slowly realized that their friendship was already doomed with that first kiss in Florida. All that was left to her was a fragile transition, and it was up to her if she wanted to break it or not. She felt the gentle tugging of his arm and she wracked her brain for reasons to resist, finding none. All that she could think about was the torture of losing Jack. She didn't know if she could bear that.

"You're my friend, right?" Cindy found herself saying, looking hard at his eyes. He gave her a strange look.

"Yeah, Cindy."

Cindy smiled faintly. How many times had they had this conversation? But still she persisted.

"And you'll always be that," Cindy assumed, wanting confirmation.

"Where are you going with this, Cin?" Jack asked, still moving his fingers comfortingly over the back of her neck. "I think it's pretty assured that I'll always be that."

After a while of silence, Jack pushed himself up, propped on his other arm, and Cindy suddenly found him closer to her, their foreheads almost touching.

"Cin, I've got to know that you want this," Jack said, looking at her hard with his deep blue eyes.

Cindy stared back at him, eyes wavering, trying to find her voice.

"Yes," she answered hoarsely, smiling as she did, cherishing the gentle pressure on the back of her head, guiding her to him.


	15. Coming Home

15.

"Coming Home"

Cindy stood in the middle of the paddock, watching the crowds milling around the railing, generating a low growl as the horses spilled into the walking ring, tossing their elegant heads and rolling their eyes wildly. Cindy glanced up and down the row of stalls, the colorful silks of the jockeys flashing through the moving bodies of the horses and the expensive clothing of owners.

In Reason trotted by, his dark bay coat shimmering with health, his tail up like a banner, mane flowing back along his arched neck, ears playing curiously. Countdown followed behind the dark bay, his smaller body held perfectly, prancing next to his handler eagerly, jerking his head down every few strides. Then came the flash of blood red - Watchmaker.

Cindy couldn't help the grin that spread over her face, watching the magnificent colt float by, testing Jack's strength, his head held low, neck arched, mane and tail streaming after him like crimson flags, the white markings on his face and legs glowing brilliantly. Cindy let her gaze flick over to Jack, who smiled at her warmly just before turning the colt away, leading him around the paddock.

Cindy's smile grew even wider, and she chuckled to herself, feeling her cheeks flush, her body growing warm. She hadn't always been like this. The morning after she had told Jack about buying King, waking up in his bed, she nearly panicked, knowing she had made the wrong decision. But as she stirred, his arm around her tightened and she suddenly realized he was awake when he nuzzled against her hair, whispering that he loved her.

That was all she needed. No one besides her family had ever told her that before, even Max. Cindy had turned in his arms and kissed him, falling back to sleep against his chest until he woke her, reminding her about work. It was one of the few days Cindy had actually considered forgetting about the track.

But the Santa Anita Derby was here now and Watchmaker was running in it as the second favorite, right behind In Reason on the toteboard. This was her Kentucky Derby contender, and as Cindy watched the red colt prance vigorously along, tossing his mane, skittering around Jack like a two-year-old at his first race, she knew he was the one.

"Want to talk strategy, Cindy?" Lucas asked, standing next to her, watching the colt in the line of horses parading through the paddock.

"I thought we had a strategy," Cindy said, still watching the colt, and then at Jack, smiling unconsciously.

"Let's just get one thing straight then," Lucas said, turning to look at Cindy, and she turned too, smiling at him. "You get that colt to the front of the pack, you take control of the pace, and don't let him give up the lead."

Cindy nodded her head, seeing a television camera sweep past them out of the corner of her eye, "You know we've got this thing in the bag."

"Right," Lucas snorted, shaking his head as Jack led Watchmaker into the stall, the red colt blowing out of wide nostrils. "Let's get this show on the road so Cindy here can get on a plane to Lexington."

Cindy frowned at Lucas. She had told both Lucas and Jack that she was intending to ride Russian Winter for Ashleigh in the Bluegrass. Her plane left later today, and she was scheduled to be in Lexington by nine. Lucas and Jack had been fine with her decision, since she would be meeting up with them both in Louisville later. Lucas was heading off to New York to saddle Well's Station in the Wood Memorial, and Jack would stay at Santa Anita to get Watchmaker ready to ship to Churchill Downs.

Cindy's heart was thumping as she watched Lucas saddle Watchmaker up, the red colt pricked his ears at the paddock, watching other horses walk by, their tack already on. Countdown trotted past, whinnying shrilly at Watchmaker as he went. Watchmaker answered with a snort of his own, stamping a hoof.

"Excited about Whitebrook?" Jack asked, ducking his head down to her's, smiling.

"Hardly," Cindy laughed, rubbing her hand down Watchmaker's face. "I have a feeling things will be terribly awkward."

"Then why did you agree to go?" Jack asked, soothing Watchmaker as the colt craned his head up, dancing nervously on his slender legs.

"Well, to see my family for one thing," Cindy said, shrugging. "I haven't seen my parents in a few years now, ever since they came up to New York for a visit. Kevin was only about ten then."

Cindy quieted as another television man walked by, the large black camera aimed ominously at them and the Dearharts as the older couple approached, Maggie wringing her hands nervously.

"I can't believe the crowds!" Mrs. Dearhart exclaimed when she stopped by the red colt, her mouth immediately tipping into a grin as she spread one age-marked hand on the upbeat colt's neck.

"Just wait till we get to the Derby," Mr. Dearhart boomed, grinning ear to ear. "This is nothing compared to the things we'll see there."

Other horses were being led out of their stalls. Unbridled's Way, a bright bay colt, trotted past, ears pricked, followed by another colt Cindy had just recently heard of - Xanadu. Then came along the heaving dark bay Vastness.

Cindy groaned when she saw the colt plunge by, shaking his head and lifting himself up on his hind legs, lunging around his handler. The only good thing about Vastness was that he had an outside gate, second to last, and wouldn't interfere with Watchmaker like last time in the San Felipe.

After Vastness came two copper chestnuts, End Title and Magic World, whom Watchmaker had easily beaten last time out. Truthfully the only colt Cindy was concerned about was In Reason. Watchmaker could easily handle the likes of Michael and Fallsway, but In Reason had the ability to go the distance.

"Riders up!" Came the call from across the paddock. "Riders up!"

"That's me," Cindy said, walking up to the red chestnut, Lucas giving her a leg up into the saddle. She settled on the colt's back, gathering the reins in her hands tightly. Watchmaker immediately set to pulling on Cindy's arms, flicking his ears tirelessly at the milling crowds along the rail.

"Ready to head out?" Jack asked, jangling Watchmaker's lead, making the red colt huff in anticipation.

"Uh-huh," Cindy nodded smartly, giving the Dearharts a broad smile and a thumbs up sign to Lucas. "Let's get out there."

At that, Jack led the colt forward, Watchmaker dancing beside him as they entered the walkway, the red colt prancing enthusiastically, tossing his head and rolling his eyes, keeping Cindy alert on his back.

Before them, Countdown was walking collectedly, his small body tense from the heaving crowds. The gray Xanadu led them to the tunnel, the colt's perfectly muscled body striding over the walkway, swishing his salt and pepper tail behind him. Watchmaker paused only lightly at the mouth of the tunnel, giving Jack a dignified snort before stepping forward.

"Go out there and kick butt, babe," Jack laughed to Cindy, handing off Watchmaker to an outrider before smacking Watchmaker fondly on the rump. "We'll be waiting for you."

"As always," Cindy grinned, feeling Watchmaker tense as the outrider grabbed his bridle, urging him out into the daylight. The red colt walked out of the shadowy tunnel, the bright sun spilling over his coat in a multitude of vibrant reds and oranges, making the colt appear like he was made of fire himself. Cindy patted the colt on his firm shoulder, sitting tall in the saddle as they pranced out onto the track, the red colt grunting and shuffling his hooves, arching his neck with pride.

Cindy looked ahead of her, hearing the sounds of hooves on dirt and the harsh breathing of the colts behind her, just barely muted by the murmuring of the crowd. Cindy dared to give a glance up at the Santa Anita stands, seeing multitudes of faces she didn't recognize. But her attention was jerked back when Watchmaker shied violently, wrenching himself almost completely away from the outrider as Vastness suddenly flew by, bucking and careening around the track without a rider, heading straight for the starting gate.

"Damn it," Cindy could hear her outrider muttering as another horse flew past, the body of a Quarter Horse. The outrider quickly caught up with the dark bay and pulled him to a halt, catching him before he could smash head long into the gate. Vastness looked very displeased, holding his head up and jumping about the Quarter Horse as he was brought back, screaming in anger.

Watchmaker flicked one ear at the rank bay before sliding past, launching into a smooth canter, floating up the track.

Cindy chose not to look behind her to see the bay. Instead she kept herself focused on Watchmaker, feeling the red colt warm up, his muscles working easily underneath her. They turned in the backstretch, heading back to the gate, other horses snorting around them.

In Reason glided by, his dark mane and tail billowing behind him, whipping in the air, and Xanadu behind him, pulling up to a trot as they approached the metal gate.

Cindy slowed Watchmaker as Xanadu calmly entered the metal stall, ears pricked at the track. Countdown went next, shaking his head and looking around wildly. Watchmaker was third in line, and was grabbed next, the assistant starters pushing him toward his stall. The red colt went in without a fuss, entering the metal gate evenly and looking around him with a laid back eye, snorting occasionally as Cindy prepared herself, pulling her goggles over her head and setting her vision on the track.

After Watchmaker, Unbridle's Way and In Reason entered without a hitch, followed by Fallsway, Michael, and End Title, came Vastness.

The dark bay was in a thorough sweaty mess, rearing and blatantly refusing to enter the gate, finally coming down to a halt and planting his hooves where they were. Cindy rolled her eyes and looked ahead, keeping Watchmaker secure and silent in the gate, knowing he would become antsy if Vastness refused too long. Even the calmest horse could get upset if they were in the starting gate too long, Cindy knew.

Finally, one assistant starter threw a dark towel over the colt's eyes and led him around in several tight circles, then led him forward. Vastness was at a loss. With the towel over his eyes he had no clue where he was going, and was at the starter's mercy. When the colt was in the gate, they pulled off the towel and the jockey hung on tight. Vastness was putting up a royal fit.

They ushered Magic World in fast and waited until Vastness' fore hooves touched the ground. Cindy leaned forward, silently cursing the young colt, and stared at the track. Vastness came down to all fours and suddenly the gate doors flew open, banging and clattering, the bell screaming over the riot in the stands.

Cindy pushed forward, feeling Watchmaker lunge and dig hard with his powerful hindquarters, surging to the front of the pack before Vastness could get there. The other colt was already pushing forward, his black tipped ears pinned back to his head in concentration as he slammed into Magic World, almost causing the chestnut colt to go down.

Cindy yelled to the red colt, urging with her hands, moving up and down his neck as Watchmaker blew through horses, speeding up to the front and grabbing the lead, making Vastness settle for second.

With Watchmaker easily on the lead, Cindy let off the colt a little, watching the quarter mile pole zoom by. In her head, Cindy knew they had gotten there much too quickly. It was probably a quarter in less than twenty-two seconds, and for a front runner that could easily be suicide. Slowly, Cindy checked Watchmaker, forcing the horses behind her to slow as well, following behind her at Watchmaker's pace.

The red colt went along the rail easily, snorting with each stride. Cindy kept a gentle hand on Watchmaker's speed, checking behind her to see where Vastness was, and more importantly, where In Reason was running. Out of the corner of her eye, Cindy caught the bay colt's colors in the back of the pack, and Cindy slowed Watchmaker further, knowing that a fast pace would only give In Reason more fuel.

They slipped by the half mile point, Watchmaker running on the lead with no problems, and Vastness no where in sight to challenge him. When Watchmaker hit the turn, Cindy lowered herself in the saddle, checking behind her again. Sure enough, In Reason's jockey was starting to get at the colt, maneuvering him to the outside for a quick and lightening fast trip around the slower horses.

Cindy felt around her for Watchmaker, testing the colt's reserves, and finding plenty of strength and will left when the colt eagerly pulled hard on the reins, upping his speed without her help. Behind her, Cindy could hear the large group of horses battling it out, coming on strongly as they wound through the turn.

She twisted around and looked under her shoulder, seeing In Reason in full gear, pulling around horses and passing them easily as they started out of the turn, bearing down on the quarter mile pole. As In Reason passed the last horse before Watchmaker, Cindy pulled the trigger and Watchmaker flew forward, pounding ahead of In Reason as they flew by the quarter mile pole. With the screams of the stands in her ears, Cindy felt Watchmaker double his efforts, switching leads as they barreled toward the finish line, the crimson colt stretching all the way as In Reason kept coming on, surging on Watchmaker's outside, refusing to be put away.

Cindy pulled out the crop and lightly tapped the colt on the flank, sending the message for more speed. Watchmaker dug in, collecting himself and letting loose, flying at the finish line with ferocity.

The red colt pushed as hard as he could, In Reason staying on his flank, trying to gain ground as Cindy urged insistently, flicking the crop by Watchmaker's eye. The colt bore down, tearing into the field as they soared by the rail, snorting and grunting with each stride as the Watchmaker began to pull away, pushing his body from In Reason as they flashed past the wire, a champion by a little over a length.

Cindy pushed herself up in the stirrups and rose a triumphant hand in the air, grinning broadly as Watchmaker pulled himself up, breathing hard after his effort.

"Yes!" Cindy cried, patting the colt's neck hard as Watchmaker stumbled into a trot, shaking his sweat dampened mane. "Next up: the Kentucky Derby!"

"Is it normal to be having some second thoughts now?" Cindy asked Jack as they sat in the airport, waiting for Cindy's flight number to be called.

"Sure," Jack said, shrugging, sitting sprawled out in the chair and watching Cindy quietly. "But you did agree."

"True," Cindy sighed, then groaned. "This is going to be miserable."

"Hey," Jack laughed. "Don't start with that. The last thing I need are long distance phone calls filled with complaints."

"I'll try not to call you then," Cindy joked, punching Jack in the arm. He caught her hand instead and drew her in for a lingering kiss, letting her go to discover the blush in her cheeks.

"What an innocent little girl," Jack chuckled. "What ever happened to that Playboy spread?"

"You know full well that photo shoot was for Vogue," Cindy insisted, trying to keep the grin from her face. "Playboy will only be in your dreams."

"Eh," Jack grunted. "I've got the real thing now anyway. Why settle for dreams?"

At that Cindy's blush deepened to a vibrant red as she shushed him, shaking her head, only making Jack smile all the more.

"Okay," he relented to her unvoiced protest. "I'll stop."

She only gave him a wayside glace and said, "Good."

They sat for a few more moments in silence, watching the multitudes of people stride by, and then Cindy's flight number was called.

Automatically, Cindy stood, grabbing her carry-on. Jack stood with her, looking down at her with bright blue eyes.

"Go visit King for me?" Cindy asked, tipping her head up to look at Jack.

"Sure," Jack nodded.

"And make sure to give him his treats. I like to give him..."

"Cin, I'm sure that colt is going to want some variety in his life," Jack cut her off, smiling widely.

Cindy stopped and laughed, tossing her head back and groaning. "I'm just nervous."

"I know," Jack pulled her up to him, running his fingers through her long blond hair. "But this is what you do, Cin. You're a jockey, remember?"

"I've always known that," Cindy smiled at him, standing up on her toes to place a kiss on his mouth, pulling his head down so she could reach him.

He broke the kiss and nuzzled her hair, making Cindy giggle.

"I'll meet up with you in Louisville," he murmured into her hair, reluctant to let go.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," she murmured back, giving him another peck on the cheek as he let her go. She gripped her carry-on and headed off for the gate, looking back at Jack, smiling at his wild, nearly black hair and beat up jeans, waving before she disappeared into the dark tunnel.

"Welcome to Lexington," the pilot spoke over the intercom in the large jet, making Cindy jerk out of her quiet sleep. Yawning, she opened up the window to see the Lexington Airport, surprised that she had managed to sleep through landing.

"The temperature is a mild seventy degrees this evening..."

Cindy pulled out her purse from under the seat in front of her, then watching the airport come closer into view as they taxied toward their gate, slowing down as they pulled up. She frowned at the airport, realizing that they had remodeled it since she had left, the tall glass panes reflecting the small city and the rolling Kentucky hills behind it.

Cindy stared at those panes, wondering if Ashleigh was already there to greet her, standing confidently by her gate. The plane came to a stop by the gate and Cindy watched the flight attendants busily walking up and down the aisles, one occupied with opening the door as the ramp was sliding into place by the curving side of the large jet.

Her heart began to beat faster by the minute as Cindy waited for the stream of passengers to begin moving, finally allowing her out of the plane. She grabbed her carry-on from the ramp as soon as she could find it and strode up the dark tunnel to the terminal, nervously fidgeting with the zipper on her purse.

When she made it out of the tunnel, she just stopped, scanning around her for any sign of Ashleigh. She could find none.

Then she walked a little further, winding around a large group of happy people who were obviously greeting a friend, or welcoming someone home. She looked around her, stopping again and making a complete circle, her eyes wide open, searching.

"Hello, Cindy," came a voice next to her, and she jumped, nearly screaming.

"Oh my God," Cindy gasped, whipping around to see Ashleigh Griffen standing next to her. "Ashleigh?"

"Hi," Ashleigh smiled, touching Cindy's shoulder lightly with her good arm. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I got here a little late."

"It's okay," Cindy said, her words jumpy. "I just got in."

Ashleigh looked straight at Cindy, finally letting the quiet smile slip into a grin. "It's good to see you, Cindy. Welcome home."


	16. New Sights, New Sounds

16.

"New Sights, New Sounds"

Cindy sat in Ashleigh's new black Porsche, listening to the engine growl as they sped down the nearly empty highway, the windows down to catch some of the spring air. The Kentucky landscape was a beautiful scene of green, the hills filling with rich foliage and the pastures a carpet of Bluegrass under the setting sun, barely a sliver over the last hill on the horizon.

"Christina has been dying to see you," Ashleigh laughed, holding onto the steering wheel lightly with her good hand. "She's only been talking about you for the past week."

"I can't wait to see her," Cindy said, finally allowing herself a smile. The nervous lump in her stomach wasn't going away, but Cindy could pretend around it. "You said she's not interested in eventing anymore?"

"That's right," Ashleigh nodded, downshifting as they slowed onto the exit ramp. They were getting closer to Whitebrook now. "After Star was born that was pretty much it. It surprised me to see her attentions switch so dramatically, but this seems to be what she wants."

"That's good to hear," Cindy shrugged, pushing a stray hair back into her ponytail. "Is she wanting to become a jockey?"

"Are you kidding?" Ashleigh laughed, taking a right hand turn. "It's all I hear from her these days. From her and Melanie, Mike's sister's daughter."

"You're holding them back?" Cindy asked, surprised. She remembered Ashleigh being very enthusiastic about Cindy learning to become a jockey -- but then, Ashleigh wasn't her mother. Obviously Ashleigh would be more protective of her own daughter.

"Maybe later this summer I'll start with them, when Star begins his two-year-old season," Ashleigh shrugged, taking a left onto Skyline Drive, where Whitebrook Farm was located a few miles up the road. "Chris seems dead set on riding Star in his first races, and I understand that. I wanted to ride Wonder just as badly."

They drove the rest of the way in silence, Cindy staring out the windows at the familiar, well cared for landscape of Whitebrook Farm. The farm's land spread out along Skyline Drive, bordered by white fences, massive oaks dotting the pastures.

"We've expanded considerably since the last time you've been by," Ashleigh said, smiling as she slowed the Porsche. Cindy could see the new iron gates of Whitebrook approaching on her right, the black letters of the farm barely visible in the dark.

Ashleigh stopped the car in front of the gates and rolled down the window, punching in the security code. The gates creaked open automatically and Ashleigh rolled through, the gates closing behind them. "We had to get the gate system," Ashleigh explained, shaking her head. "With our expansion, Mike and Ian thought it was for the best. Especially after a horse was stolen from a farm further up the road about five months ago."

Cindy winced automatically, remembering Glory and his background -- being stolen from a farm in Virginia.

"Beth and Ian are besides themselves," Ashleigh said, changing the subject as she drove up the gravel drive, the familiar white farmhouse coming into view through the trees. Ashleigh drove past the first two cabins and parked in front of the white house, killing the engine and opening up her door, stepping out of the small car.

"Christina and Melanie are off watching a movie with Kevin," Ashleigh said, walking around the Porsche as Cindy climbed out, rotating her old shoulder. "I don't expect them in until late, but I know Christina is planning on waking you up bright and early. She wants to show you Star."

"I'll probably be up before her," Cindy laughed, remembering her strict morning schedule when she was Christina's age.

"Cindy!" A woman's voice shouted over the gravel lot. Cindy turned around and saw her mother walking down the steps of the larger cabin, making her way over to the Porsche to hug her daughter.

Cindy laughed and hugged her mom back, squeezing tightly.

"It's been so long!" Beth laughed, pulling back to take a look at Cindy, narrowing her eyes as though looking her over critically. "How's your shoulder?" She finally asked, a look of concern on her face. "Has it been bothering you anymore?"

"Off and on," Cindy said, smiling when she saw Ian appear on the porch, a wide smile on his face.

"Hi, Dad!" Cindy called as the older man made his way up to her, his bright eyes sparkling as he hugged her tightly, patting her back hard.

"It's good to see you, Cindy," Ian remarked gruffly, pulling back and running a hand through his red hair, speckled now with some gray. "I started to think you'd never make it back here."

"I couldn't stay away forever," Cindy chuckled quietly, pulling her luggage out of Ashleigh's car, her father helping her with the larger pieces. Since leaving Los Angeles, Cindy had brought everything with her, knowing she would be heading back to New York after the Derby.

Ashleigh yawned and smiled up at Ian, waving them off. "It's been a long night," she said, smiling. "I'm sure Mike is already asleep or he would've come down by now," she added, glancing up at the sleeping house, pulling her long brown hair out of its ponytail. "I'll see you all tomorrow morning."

"Good night, Ashleigh," Beth said as the famous jockey disappeared inside the house, the heavy wooden door banging behind her.

"We've got your old room all fixed up," Beth said proudly, taking one of Cindy's bags as they started to move off to the old cabin.

"She made a huge deal about it, Cin," Ian laughed in front of them, opening up the door. "Can you believe it?"

"Yes," Cindy said, the smile on her face refusing to dim. "That's great. I can't wait to see it again."

Ian and Beth herded Cindy up to her old room, presenting it to her eagerly. Cindy was shocked at how much it had stayed the same. The old horse posters, books, and photo albums were still in their old places. Even the walls were the same peach hue.

"Kevin is in Samantha's old room," Beth explained, setting down the carry on in the middle of the floor. "It was the larger of the two, so I just decided to keep your room as it was."

"It's unbelievable," Cindy breathed, remembering all the sleep overs with Heather that she had where the two of them would lay awake at night, talking about Glory or, later on, about Max and Doug.

"Well," Ian said, checking his watch. "The Late Show is about to come on. You up for it, Cin?"

"Absolutely," Cindy nodded, pulling off her light jacket and spreading it on her old bed, the comforter now a brilliant white.

"I'll start a pot of coffee," Beth said, heading to the door. "Decaf, right Cin?"

"Nothing but," Cindy agreed, pulling her long blond hair out of her pony tail, smiling as they headed back down the stairs, leaving her old room behind her.

The next morning, Cindy was up before the rest of the household, showered and hair already dry, bustling around the kitchen when the light knock on the front door startled her from her breakfast.

She opened the door to a young girl with light brown, almost blond hair, a splitting smile on her face.

"Cindy?" She asked, fidgeting nervously.

"That's me," Cindy laughed, reaching out to hug Christina. "My gosh you've gotten so much older!"

"I'm actually taller than you," Chris chuckled, looking down at Cindy just slightly as they pulled back to survey each other.

"I bet you hardly remember me," Cindy said, ushering Chris inside, shutting the door behind them.

"No," Christina shook her head. "I do. I was almost seven I think when you left the second time."

Cindy winced, remembering the hard times she had coming back to Whitebrook after flying back from the United Arab Emirates, only to leave again nearly a year after that.

"Yeah," Cindy said, going back to her bowl of cereal. "So I hear you've got yourself a colt."

Christina grinned, nodding her head enthusiastically as she jumped up on a stool, watching Cindy eat. "Uh-huh. Star. You'll love him when you meet him."

"I bet I will," Cindy laughed, finishing off the rest of her cereal and downing her orange juice. "So when did you want to show him to me?"

"Right now?" Christina asked. "Unless you've got something to do."

"Here?" Cindy laughed. "Nah. I stopped doing chores around here years ago. Let's go take a look at the colt."

"Great," Christina nodded, heading to the door and bounding out into the warming spring air.

By the time Cindy and Christina reached the door to the main training barn, Cindy had been well-versed in Star's background, learning everything about the colt's past, including his beginning training at Townsend Acres and Wonder's death.

"I guess he's still a little jumpy," Cindy assumed after hearing Christina relate his time with the Townsend's.

"He's doing better than you may think," Christina shook her head, pushing the door open and walking down the aisle, Cindy close behind her. "But mom is still wary about him. Since Wonder died, she's been uncomfortable around Star. It was a miracle that I got him back here at all."

"That's too bad," Cindy said with sympathy, understanding. Wonder had been pensioned from breeding before Ashleigh had decided to breed her to Jazzman one final time. The end result had not been what Ashleigh had hoped. It didn't surprise Cindy that the older woman would blame herself for Wonder's death.

"Here he is," Christina said, stopping outside the roomy box stall, the door name plaque reading in bold letters: Wonder's Star. Inside was a beautiful honey chestnut, his coat glowing in the early morning light.

"Hey," Christina crooned to the beautiful colt as he turned his head, the white star on his face contrasting strikingly from the smooth chestnut of his coat. Star stepped up to the opening of the stall and stuck his elegant head into Christina's arms, nickering contentedly, snuffling around for treats.

"No treats yet," Christina grinned, patting the colt's neck. "Mom wants me to work you today."

Cindy watched the girl with the horse, remembering all the time she had spent with Champion. Star turned his head to Cindy with a low grunt, stretching out his neck to her, lipping at her hands affectionately.

"Hi there," Cindy said, letting her eyes roam over the colt's body again, noticing the colt's smooth conformation, wondering what he must feel like under saddle.

"He's a beauty," Cindy nodded. "Definitely one of Wonder's."

Christina laughed as Star suddenly snorted into Cindy's hands and shook his head, ruffling up his auburn mane.

"Hey," Ashleigh called, sliding the large door of the barn back and walking into the stable, leaving the barn door open behind her. "Chris, are you ready to head Star out?"

"In a sec," Christina said, turning to Cindy. "I've got to go get Star's stuff. Mom can show you Russ."

"Go on," Ashleigh nodded, scooting her daughter off to get Star's tack. "Leave Russ to me."

Christina jogged off to the tack room, disappearing in the shadows of the small room as Ashleigh laid a hand on Star's nose, looking at him with a frown.

"What do you think of him?" Ashleigh said, looking into the colt's sweet brown eyes.

"I think he's a beauty," Cindy said, being honest. "He probably has some great possibilities. I'm thinking the classic races. The Townsend's aren't posing much of a problem?"

"You have no idea," Ashleigh sighed, shaking her head, then smiling. "But, I'm supposed to show you Russ."

Russian Winter was stalled near the office, and the big bay colt already had his head hanging out the door as Cindy and Ashleigh approached, his ears sweeping to attention at the sight of Cindy.

"There's our big boy," Ashleigh crooned, running her hand down the colt's nose, rubbing the diamond mark in the middle of his forehead.

Cindy stood in front of Watchmaker's competition and had no idea what to say, watching the colt carefully. The big bay was much more impressive in person. His coat was glowing, his muscles were rippling as he stamped his fore hoof impatiently against the bedding. Everything about the colt seemed to reinforce why the television commentators were calling him the next Triple Crown winner.

"What do you think?" Ashleigh finally asked, bringing the bay colt out into the aisle, putting him in cross ties.

"He looks like a champ," was all Cindy could say, still thinking about Watchmaker's chances against the likes of this colt.

"He should be," Ashleigh laughed. "He's by Cryptoclearance. His dam is Puget Sound, the Santa Anita Oaks winner a few years ago. It's amazing Mike even stumbled across him at that auction."

"I'll say," Cindy nodded. "How much did he get him for? A few hundred?"

"Less," Ashleigh laughed. "He was a gangly yearling. He sold for sixty."

"Sixty thousand?" Cindy said, trying to hide her complete shock. "That's astonishing."

"Isn't it?" Ashleigh laughed, shaking her head. "He was definitely a steal."

"No kidding," Cindy shook her head. "And now he's getting primed to run in the Derby."

"How is Watchmaker doing?" Ashleigh asked, pulling out a brush from the colt's grooming supplies. "The last I heard he was getting ready to ship in the next few days."

"Yeah," Cindy nodded, picking up a brush also and going to work on the colt's other side, frowning at Russian Winter's red toned coat. "Jack is getting him ready to go."

"Simm's assistant trainer?"

"His right hand man," Cindy said, smiling unconsciously.

"Good to hear it," Ashleigh said. "He'll definitely have a jump on Russ by getting to Churchill so early and getting used to the track. We've still got a week before the Blue Grass."

Cindy nodded and frowned still, finishing off her side of the colt.

"I've got his tack," Christina said, coming out of the tack room, laying down Russ' saddle and bridle for her mother and then going to Star's stall, crooning to him happily.

When Cindy stood next to Whitebrook's training oval, she was sure the memories were going to plow her over. Instead, she managed to mount up on Russian Winter and land gracefully in the saddle, collecting the reins without thinking.

Christina was already out on the oval with Star, walking him in a tight circle as Russ snorted, rolling his eyes to glare at Cindy before plowing out on the track, head down, ears pinned back as though testing Cindy's strength.

Cindy held firm, guiding the colt into a trot as they joined Christina and Star, the bay colt squealing excitedly as they made their way up the track.

"He's a little handful," Cindy called, slipping the colt into a canter as they entered the backstretch, watching Christina handle Star easily next to her.

"I know," Christina said, smiling as Russ threw his head up and broke stride, jumping out from the rail to gallop a few beats down the middle of the track before Cindy hauled him back, forcing him in line with Star as they rounded the far turn, sliding into slow gallops. Star moved fluidly, arching his perfect chestnut neck as they moved out, stretching his legs as he galloped along the inside rail. Russ finally settled down, lowering his head to really eat up the ground, keeping his ears flicked back on Cindy. He had tired of testing his new rider.

"Good," Ashleigh called as they approached the gap. "How about one more turn around the track and call it a day?"

"Sounds okay," Christina called as Cindy kept on with Russ, knowing what Ashleigh would say before she said it. Christina urged Star into a gallop, letting him speed up along the rail and pull even with Russ again, the bay colt snorting with surprise as Star darted up next to him, his chestnut mane waving along his neck.

Russian Winter eyed the younger colt and let out a deep grunt, pulling his head down in an attempt to snatch the reins from Cindy's fingers.

"Oh no," Cindy growled, shaking her head. "That's not going to happen, boy."

Russ flicked his ears to listen to her, galloping strongly into the far turn again with Christina and Star holding their own next to the older bay colt.

When they headed into the homestretch, Cindy could spot Mike and Ian standing next to Ashleigh. Further back, another girl was leading a gray down to the track, her hair pulled into a pony tail behind her head.

"That's Melanie," Christina said, beginning to slow Star as they approached the gap. "My cousin."

"So I've heard," Cindy nodded, pulling back on Russ, feeling the colt give in to her pressure. Shaking his head, he broke his stride and fell back to a canter, and then a trot, slowing as they got to Ashleigh.

"Looked good," Ashleigh said as soon as Cindy had stopped the bay, leaping off of him. "How did he feel?"

"He's in good shape," Cindy said, frowning at the colt. "He definitely has personality."

"How do you think I fractured my arm?" Ashleigh laughed, patting the bay colt's shoulder. Russ nickered and shook his head, prancing off the track.

Christina moved off the track with Star, the gentlemanly chestnut following along behind her. Ashleigh quickly told her to go wash him up and set him loose in his paddock as Melanie jumped up on the gray, giving Cindy a wide smile before heading out to the track. Cindy smiled back, still holding Russian Winter's reins.

"What do you think about the Blue Grass?" Ashleigh asked, furrowing her eyebrows at Cindy. "I want to make sure he's going to take to you."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that," Cindy shook her head. "This colt isn't picky about riders. I think he's going to beat the Blue Grass field to a pulp, depending on who is running, of course."

"That's my sentiment exactly," Ashleigh laughed, patting the bay colt before Cindy moved him up to the barn.

"How's Watchmaker?" Cindy asked into the phone, laying on her bed at eleven thirty at night, keeping her voice low as to not disturb Kevin, who had had a long day at school and was out like a light in the next room.

"He's great," she heard Jack's voice say over the phone. "He'll be in Louisville in a couple of days. How goes the family visiting?"

"Everything is okay so far," Cindy shrugged. "My parents have been great, and even Ashleigh doesn't seem to completely hate her decision of having me ride Russian Winter. We all had a big reunion dinner tonight," Cindy laughed, shaking her head. "Christina and Melanie are something else."

"That's good, Cindy. Maybe it won't be as bad as you thought."

"Maybe," Cindy sighed, snuggling into the covers.

"You been up on Russian Winter?" Jack asked.

"Yeah," Cindy nodded, stopping herself when she realized no one was watching her. "I haven't breezed him yet, but he's a bullet. I'm betting he already has the Blue Grass in the bag."

"Probably," Jack said. "Lucas seems to think the same."

"Is he already up in New York?"

"Uh-huh," Jack answered through chewing and swallowing. Cindy knew it was only eight thirty in Los Angeles. Jack had promised Cindy he'd be in when she called, and it looked like he had even ordered take out to remain true to his promise. Cindy smiled, twisting the phone cord around her index finger.

"How's King?" Cindy asked, thinking about her gray stallion.

"Up and hobbling around," Jack laughed. "Dr. Smith seems to think he'll be ready to leave the clinic in a couple of weeks."

"How are those cuts on his side?" Cindy asked, concerned. She hadn't liked the looks of those. Some had been fairly deep.

"Not posing a problem," Jack reported. "He's a happy colt, Cin."

"I'll bet," Cindy laughed. "As long as you're giving him his treats."

"Believe me," Jack said. "That colt gets everything he desires."

"Good," Cindy said, pleased. She glanced over at the bedside clock and groaned.

"Gotta go?" Jack assumed, his voice floating into Cindy's ear.

"It's getting pretty late," Cindy said, frowning at the red digital numbers. "Christina and Melanie are going to be by early tomorrow to take the colts out. And Samantha wants to go trail riding after that."

"Busy schedule," Jack joked. "You'll have time to have phone sex with me at least once, right?"

"Jack," Cindy warned, using her best threatening voice.

"Alright," Jack laughed. "I guess that's what I get for dating a good girl."

"I swear to God," Cindy snorted, trying to keep herself from laughing. "You are incorrigible."

"That's what I was hoping for," Jack laughed. Then: "I'll be in Louisville on the thirteenth. I'll call your cell to give you the new number."

"Okay," Cindy said, reminding herself of the date. "I guess I'll see you after the Blue Grass, then."

"Yeah," Jack agreed. After a small pause, he added, "Love you, Cin."

Cindy grinned into the phone and answered, "I love you, too."

"Okay," Jack chuckled. "I'll see you in about a week."

"Louisville."

"Can't wait."


	17. Just Like Yesterday

17.

"Just Like Yesterday"

The next day, after Cindy had washed up Russian Winter and set him out to his paddock, she found herself ambling over to the stud barn, eager to look in on the old colts she had known well when she was barely in her teens.

She came up to the large sliding barn door of the stud stable and pushed it open, peering into the dim lights of the barn. Whitebrook had a good amount of stallions for its size, which, Cindy had to remind herself, had grown over the past few years. They had many accomplished stallions standing at the farm, and Cindy smiled at the names on the stalls as she walked by.

Indigo, one of Mike's first runners, had recently been pensioned and sent back to Whitebrook on Mike's request. The beautiful stallion had been standing out in California where he had sired only a few stakes runners.

Beside him was Mike's champion racer Jazzman. The coal black stud was milling in his stall, pausing to run his face against a bent foreleg. Cindy stopped for a moment to look at him, recognizing the similar characteristics he and his son, Star, had in common. They were nearly the same build, Cindy noticed approvingly. The black stallion was aging gracefully, and would probably soon be pensioned to spend the rest of his days peacefully out at pasture.

Cindy glanced in on the rest of the studs she remembered well - Mr. Wonderful, Matchless, Zero's Flight, and Limitless Time. She looked in on Wonder's son by Dominion, the huge black terror, and Honor's son, a beautiful bay called Honor and Majesty.

Wonder's Pride was waiting for her when she approached, nickering eagerly for attention. The big chestnut was still as radiant as ever, stepping forward in his stall to nudge Cindy happily.

"Hey, boy," Cindy smiled, rubbing the old stallion's forehead, grinning at the Kentucky Derby and Preakness winner.

Before she could give Pride much more attention, a gray head suddenly shoved its way into Cindy's arms, nickering and grunting so heavily that Cindy thought the old gray stallion was going to have a heart attack.

"Glory!" Cindy exclaimed. "I'm not done with Pride yet!"

The gray didn't seem to care and pushed hard, shaking his silver mane. Cindy laughed and hugged her horse around the neck hard, rubbing Glory's neck vigorously. She pulled back and placed a big kiss on the gray's dark nose, laughing as Glory slammed his muzzle into Cindy's neck excitedly.

"It's good to see you, too," Cindy chuckled, running her hand down the stallion's face, noticing all the changes about the stud.

At first glance, Cindy didn't think she would've recognized Glory had he not been in his stall. The stud was nearly completely silver and white, with the exception of dark gray legs and a rainbow mane and tail of gray and silver. But Glory's eyes were still that deep brown full of youthful vigor that Cindy remembered so well.

Glory nudged Cindy repeatedly in the side, rubbing as though trying to test if she were real or not.

"Looks like he really missed you," a voice said behind Cindy, making her whirl around.

"Sam!" Cindy laughed, rushing forward to hug her sister.

Samantha chuckled and hugged Cindy back hard, pushing her back to take a look at her.

"Looking good, Cin," Samantha said, her dark green eyes twinkling.

"So are you," Cindy laughed, looking her sister over. Samantha had braided her long red hair behind her head, controlling the curly mass as well as she could.

"Taking a look at the big boys, huh?" Samantha asked, walking up to stroke Pride's white-marked face.

"Yeah," Cindy nodded. "I've been wanting to get a look at Glory for a while."

"He's looking different, isn't he?" Samantha said with a smile, reaching over to pat Glory on the neck.

"Entirely," Cindy agreed, nodding her head. "I bet he'll be completely white in a few years."

"Maybe," Samantha said, looking in on Pride.

"You know what?" Samantha said, turning to Cindy.

"What?"

"Let's go talk," she said. "Want to take these guys out for a ride? I know they get almost no attention now a days."

"Of course," Cindy nodded, jumping at the chance to do something familiar again. Riding Glory over the trails with Samantha seemed just like old times.

"Great," Samantha said, picking up the latch on Pride's stall door. "You get the tack, I'll take out the horses."

In minutes they were out on the trails, laughing giddily, the two old stallions shouldering each other like colts back in their racing days. Glory let loose a long whinny as they made their way into the trees, Pride joining him in a brief duet.

Samantha laughed and ran her hand down Pride's crest, weaving her fingers into the stallion's flame colored mane. Glory tossed his head, shaking up his own salt and pepper mane, stepping high with pride as Cindy guided him down the trails, thinking about all the years she had spent conditioning the beautiful gray to race in the big time, teaching him how to become a champion.

"This is great," Cindy said as the stallions began to settle down, walking down the trail in silence.

"Yeah," Samantha said, taking a deep breath of early spring air. "I should do this more often with Pride," she added, patting his neck. "Ashleigh has too much on her mind to take him trail riding right now."

"He still looks good," Cindy commented, reaching over to pat the chestnut fondly.

Samantha grinned, nodding her head.

"So, how's this Watchmaker colt holding out for you?" Samantha asked, smiling over at Cindy. "Give me all the details."

"He's a great colt, Sam," Cindy grinned, guiding Glory around a fallen branch. "He really is a son of Shining. I think he may be the one to go all the way."

"Seriously?" Samantha laughed. "Wow. I wish I hadn't decided to send him to auction now. He was such a gangly little thing when he was born."

Cindy nodded her head. "How's Shining?"

"Alive and kicking," Samantha said. "I decided to retire her from the breeding world and take her over to my stable, Whisperwood. I'm teaching her some basic level dressage right now to keep her fit. Ever since Wonder died I've been very aware that Shining isn't immortal."

Cindy nodded, frowning then. "I bet that's been hard on everyone."

"Particularly on Ashleigh," Samantha said quietly, as though she expected someone was listening in on her. "And it's been two years now. Almost."

They let silence descend for a moment, both obviously thinking about the mare that had made everything possible for both Ashleigh and Mike. Everyone knew she was a once in a lifetime horse.

"Oh," Samantha suddenly exclaimed, breaking the silence. "I completely forgot about your Eclipse award! That's so fantastic!"

"Thanks," Cindy grinned shyly. She had thought everyone, besides her parents, had nearly forgotten her accomplishment. Even Ashleigh hadn't mentioned it.

"That's really amazing," Samantha nodded curtly, pushing a tendril of red hair behind her ear. "You should be really proud of yourself, Cin."

"Sometimes I really can't believe it," Cindy laughed, shaking her head. "I guess the expectations have just been risen a notch. That's what Jack and Lucas keep telling me."

"Jack?" Samantha asked, focusing on the name. She had heard of Lucas before, and even met him when she had come back to the United States from living in Ireland for years, visiting Cindy before heading back to Kentucky with Tor. But she hadn't met Jack.

"Are you dating someone, Cin?" Samantha asked, a teasing tilt in her voice.

Cindy groaned and halted Glory, making a show of rolling her eyes. "Did I just let that slip?" She asked, frowning at Samantha, who had halted Pride and was looking back at her, grinning wildly.

"Ah, come on, Cindy," Samantha prodded. "If you tell me your secret, I'll tell you mine."

"You've got a secret?" Cindy asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Sure," Samantha laughed. "We've all got them. Divulge, Cin."

"Okay," Cindy said, urging Glory into a walk again, coming up next to Pride as they began to head down the trail.

Cindy told her tale to Samantha, who listened eagerly, holding back chuckles.

"This guy sounds pretty sweet," Samantha said once Cindy was done, a full blown blush darkening her cheeks.

"He is," Cindy admitted, ducking her head and biting her lip.

"Definitely a step up from that Ben character," Samantha added, grinning at Cindy as they approached the small wooden bridge.

At that, Cindy rolled her eyes and demanded, "Okay, so what's your secret?"

Samantha laughed, Pride's hooves clomping over the wooden planks of the bridge as they walked across, Cindy following closely on Glory.

"Well," Samantha said, slowing Pride to a halt after they walked off the bridge. "You have to promise you won't tell anyone. I want it to be a surprise."

Cindy halted Glory and nodded. "Sure. Cross my heart."

Samantha nodded and said quite confidently, "I'm pregnant."

"What!" Cindy nearly shouted, startling Glory, who snorted uneasily.

"Whoa!" Samantha called, raising up a hand, laughing.

"You haven't told anyone that?" Cindy asked, shocked. "You told Tor, right?"

"Oh, sure," Samantha nodded. "He's beyond happy. We're both in such a state of bliss right now it's surprising no one has guessed yet."

"Oh my God," Cindy cried, her mouth still gaping open. "I'm so happy for you! Congratulations!"

"Thanks," Samantha grinned.

"But," Cindy frowned, glancing at Sammy's stomach. "You shouldn't be riding, though, right? I mean, if you fall..."

"Well," Samantha shook her head. "I haven't been riding ever since I found out. But, I really wanted to go out on the trails with you, and I haven't gone faster than a walk. Plus, I trust in Pride completely."

Cindy nodded, grinning. "When are you due?"

"Late December," Samantha sighed, patting her stomach. "I can't believe I've got more than eight months to go."

Cindy laughed and reached over, squeezing her sister's arm. "Hey. I can't believe you're going to be a mom. And I'm going to be an aunt!"

Samantha laughed, shaking her head. "I guess I'm going to have to start telling everyone. People are already wondering why I haven't been up on a horse for the past couple of weeks."

"We should have another dinner after the Blue Grass. You can tell them all then," Cindy suggested as they began to amble back along the paddocks, making their way into the stable yard.

"That's a good idea," Samantha nodded. "It certainly puts me on the spot."

"There's no other way," Cindy said deviously.

Samantha snorted, eyeing Cindy as they walked around the main training barn, passing by an old truck. On the other side, Christina was walking out of the barn, leading Star. Behind her another horse was being led by a taller boy.

Christina drew up short when she saw Samantha and Cindy, but then smiled. "Hey guys," she said casually. "Did you go on your trail ride already? We were going out to meet you."

"Yeah," Samantha said, frowning. "I'm sorry we missed you."

Christina caught Cindy glancing at the other rider and she started suddenly, whirling around. "Oh, Cindy, this is Parker Townsend. Parker, this is Cindy McLean. Samantha's sister."

"I know," Parker said, smiling easily, walking up to offer his hand. Confused, Cindy reached out and took his hand, shaking it firmly. "Chris has been getting me to watch all your races this spring. My father was out at Santa Anita for a while when you were running. He says you bought his colt."

"I did," Cindy said, getting a surprised look from Samantha. "He's doing well."

Parker nodded. "That's good to hear."

"Wait," Christina said, frowning. "You bought Townsend King?"

Cindy nodded. "It's a long story."

"Well," Christina mounted up on Star, gathering up the reins. "You'll have to tell us all about it during dinner. I bet mom will be shocked."

Parker laughed, mounting up on his horse, a colt Cindy didn't recognize.

"You ready, Parker?" Christina called behind her, getting a thumbs up sign from the older boy.

"Okay," she grinned, setting off on Star. "I'll see you at dinner, Cindy!"

"Sure, Chris!" Cindy called back before turning a confused face to Samantha.

"Christina and Parker Townsend?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.

"You'd think it would be like day and night," Samantha laughed, shaking her head. "Really, Parker is a great kid. Chris really likes him."

"He seems nice," Cindy admitted, frowning after them as Glory snorted, stamping a hoof against the gravel. Truthfully, Cindy couldn't see a son of Brad and Lavinia Townsend becoming an angel, much less dating the daughter of their arch rival.

"He's a rider at Whisperwood," Samantha said, turning Pride to the stud barn. "He and his mare, Foxy, are really climbing in the ranks."

Cindy nodded, jumping off Glory outside the barn.

"Well," Cindy laughed, pulling the stallion's reins over his head, giving him a kiss on the nose. "I guess stranger things have happened."

Over the next couple of days, Ashleigh was on the war path getting Russian Winter ready for the Blue Grass. Cindy was fairly sure the colt wouldn't have a problem with the field, since his past performances were better than most, and he had already beaten his principle rival, the gray Cherokee Pride, twice.

"I want a five furlong breeze," Ashleigh called as Cindy jumped up on Russ before most of the works began. Christina and Melanie stood by the rail, both watching her in rapt attention. Russian Winter snorted and threw his head up, skittering onto the track as Cindy gathered the reins, urging him into a trot up the track.

The bay colt squealed and kicked into a jerky trot, throwing his head. Cindy didn't waste any time, pulling the colt to the rail and switching him into a canter and then a slow gallop, the colt's strides eating up the ground.

Cindy leaned forward in the saddle, hovering over the bay's withers, keeping her hands firm on the leather reins as Russian Winter moved into the far turn, arching his neck, snorting and blowing deeply.

"Okay, boy," Cindy muttered, watching the gap and then flicking her eyes to the marker. They were approaching rapidly, the blue and white post coming into focus.

"Let's get this show on the road," Cindy said to herself as they were almost on it. She lowered herself in the saddle, moving her hands up to give the colt rein. In that instant, as Russian Winter pounded by the marker, he grabbed the extra slack in the reins and plowed forward, lunging with a gigantic leap from his hind legs.

Cindy urged the colt all out, feeling him eagerly speed forward, skimming by the rail so close she could feel the outside of her left boot striking the white rail.

Russian Winter pinned his ears back, his nostrils wide, blowing out deep breaths with each stride he took, churning up the dirt as he went, blowing away the time as they clicked by each marker.

Cindy urged him on, counting seconds and markers as they went, knowing the colt was pouring on a brilliant work. Ashleigh would have to be proud of this, Cindy knew as the colt flew by the last marker, digging in again to take on the next furlong.

But Cindy stood up in the stirrups, immediately slowing the colt, who grunted unhappily, lifting his head high.

"Come on," Cindy said, pulling back on the reins as the bay dropped to a slow gallop and then a canter, working his way back to the gap.

Cindy sat back in the saddle when the colt slowed to a trot, posting with Russ' rocky gait. She could see grins on both Melanie's and Christina's faces. Ashleigh was comparing times with Ian, who finally looked up as Cindy rode up, Russian Winter blowing and shaking his jet mane.

"Great!" Ian exclaimed as Cindy jumped off, letting Mike take a look at the colt's legs.

"A minute and one," Ashleigh said, beaming, showing Cindy the time. "That's excellent."

"And hard as a rock," Mike added, standing up and brushing his hands on his worn jeans. "Good job out there, Cin."

Cindy smiled at him and patted Russian Winter's chest, wondering how she was even supposed to feel. Watchmaker had gone six furlongs in a minute and twelve, and if Russian Winter had gone on for another furlong, he surely would've beaten that time. Cindy watched as Melanie and Christina took Russ up to the barn, giving her grins and compliments. Cindy smiled at them, watching the bay colt closely, wondering how on earth Watchmaker was going to win the Kentucky Derby with Russian Winter firmly in the way.


	18. Fading Away

18.

"Fading Away"

The day of the Blue Grass turned out beautiful. A blue sky stretched over Lexington, bringing with it the promise of large crowds and a fast track for Russian Winter. Cindy stood in the jockey's room, slowly peeling off her street clothes to switch into her silks. She pulled on her white tank and protective vest, then her white pants, buttoning them up, sliding her small feet into the equally small black boots which were shined to perfection. Then she glanced over at the blue and white silks that were laid out on the bench beside her.

Cindy picked up the slippery material, running her eyes down the blue and white diamonds, the blue sleeves. It had been ages since she had worn those silks, and just the thought of it made Cindy put them back on the bench, running her hands over her face, groaning. She wanted to call Jack, but she didn't have her cell. The last time she had talked to him had been a couple of days ago. He had told her to break a leg.

She sat down on the bench, determinedly picking up the silks again, crumpling them in her fist.

I can do this, she thought, trying to find an air of confidence. It's only one race.

Cindy jerked the silks on over the vest and her tank, pulling at the material, tucking it into her white pants and buttoning the collar, then wrapping white rubber bands around her wrists to make the sleeves stay.

She looked up in the mirror and her image startled her, making her jump. It was like she was sixteen again, barely riding, carrying the Whitebrook colors with pride. Except this time it was with indifference.

She grabbed her helmet, pulling on the hat colors - blue and white diamonds - and made sure her braid was tucked out of the way. Then she walked out into the paddock.

The horses were already circling, walking and dancing besides their grooms, their coats groomed to complete perfection. Cindy darted her way in and out of groups of owners and trainers, walking up to stall one, where Ashleigh was standing, nervously talking to Mike.

"Hi," Cindy greeted, smiling.

"Hi, Cin," Ashleigh sighed with relief, her lightly painted lips curving into a small smile.

Ashleigh had dressed up for the occasion, wearing a floral print sun dress. Her soft brown hair was in sophisticated waves, looking nothing like it normally did. However, this was the Blue Grass, and it demanded the sophisticated. Ashleigh had even put on a trace of make-up, a sure sign that this race meant the world to her.

David, one of Whitebrook's grooms, led Russian Winter into the saddling area, stopping the excited bay so Ian could tack him up. A television camera swooped by, reporters darting in and out of stalls as horses were being tacked up, the crowd grumbling and shifting around the paddock, generating a low roar.

Russian Winter easily looked like the best in the field. Cindy had pored over the Daily Racing Form the previous night, searching through the other entrants records, and watching previous races with Ashleigh and Ian, coming up with a race strategy.

"Okay," Ashleigh said, drawing Cindy aside as another television crew pushed by, walking down to Cherokee Pride's stall. "Let's go over the plan again."

"Drop him back to last," Cindy recited, knowing the plan by heart. "If the pace is fast, keep back. If it's slow, keep him close. Cherokee Pride should take the lead, but Thirty Stars is also a speed ball. Irish Luck should be back with me, and he has the breeding for distance, so I'll watch for him. Factory Line has staying ability, but is unproven on tracks outside of Florida. All the others are wild cards."

Ashleigh paused for a second, looking at Cindy as though she couldn't believe she was looking at the jockey she had trained herself. Then she smiled.

"I don't think we're going to have a problem," Ashleigh nodded, patting Cindy's good shoulder. "All that's left is getting to the wire first."

Then a reporter swooped in, grabbing Ashleigh for an interview. Cindy stayed out of the way, standing by Russian Winter's head with David as her father finished tacking him up, slapping the bay colt's flank fondly.

"Take him out, Dave," Ian told the groom, smiling. "Let the crowds get a look at him."

Cindy watched quietly as David led the hyper colt out of the stall, waiting as Russ shied sideways, tossing his jet mane. The bright Kentucky sunshine played over the colt's bay coat, reflecting the health and good care, making the colt glow a brilliant bronze.

The rest of the colts in the race also looked good, Cindy noticed, watching the line of ten begin to walk around the paddock again, their small saddles in place. Evidence, the gray number two horse, tossed his silver mane, walking energetically behind Russ. He was followed by the chestnut After Hours and then the other gray, Cherokee Pride.

Onyx Palace threw up his dark bay head, whinnying shrilly as he pranced past, nearly bumping into a camera man. Virtuous and Thirty Stars, both chestnuts, walked calmly behind him, parading around the ring in their best form. One Moment was the only horse out of place. The small red roan filly had mastered the ladies in New York, finally testing her ability against colts in the Blue Grass. Ashleigh hadn't been concerned about her, but Cindy had to wonder about the filly's ability. She had blown fields of mares away in her previous races.

The rest had come from other tracks - Oaklawn, Lone Star, Fairgrounds, Calder - and had come to the Blue Grass for a final shot at the Derby. Cindy knew, in the back of her mind, that Russian Winter had them all beaten.

Soon, the reporter turned from Ashleigh and focused on Cindy.

"Cindy," the woman smiled, walking up to her. Inwardly, Cindy groaned to herself, watching the reporter approach.

"How does it feel to be riding for Whitebrook again after all these years?"

Cindy forced herself to not arch an eyebrow, but to remain calm and stoic, looking at the camera quietly. "It feels great to have these silks on again," Cindy said, rubbing the dark blue sleeve.

"What is your opinion about Russian Winter?" The woman asked, bringing the microphone back to Cindy's face.

"I think he has every capability to win today," Cindy answered, as though she were completely loyal to the Whitebrook camp. "His pedigree screams distance and he just put in a dazzling work a few days ago. Plus, he likes this surface."

"Where there any complications switching jockeys?" The woman asked, not getting Cindy's silent pleads to leave.

"None whatsoever," Cindy shook her head. "He's just fine with a different rider. I know Whitebrook has had problems with switching jockeys in the past, but not with this one."

"Thank you, Cindy," the reporter smiled. "Good luck."

Cindy nodded and stepped out of the camera frame, giving a disgruntled look to her father, who only chuckled.

"Good thing Jack didn't see that," Ian laughed, putting a hand on Cindy's shoulder.

Cindy laughed, nodding her head. "He probably would've died laughing," Cindy snorted, rolling her eyes. She had told her parents about Jack a few days ago during dinner. Her mother had reacted with pure joy, as though she were about to go out and start planning the vision of the wedding that suddenly popped into her head. Cindy's father had responded with a gruff mention of wanting to meet this man and see for himself what Cindy saw in him, although everyone knew he was just as happy as Beth. Kevin, of course, had prodded and made jokes, giving them approximately five months. Cindy had clapped her hand over his mouth before tickling him off his dinner chair.

The horses were coming back into their stalls, jockeys milling around in their colorful silks, talking to well-dressed owners in expensive clothing and women wearing wild hats.

"Riders up!" Shouted a man near the entrance of the paddock. "Riders up!"

"That's your cue, Cin," Ian said, stepping back to give his daughter a leg up into the saddle. Cindy settled herself on Russian Winter's back, feeling the bay colt quivering and shifting beneath her. The crowds were cheering by the fence, watching the horses prance out of their stalls, eyeing the people with dramatic eyes ringed in white. Russian Winter jerked his head down and arched his neck as David led him out of the stall, prancing slowly as he made his way onto the track, lifting his tail with pride as though he knew he was the best in the field.

Cindy gathered the reins, waving to her group as they entered the line of nine other horses, heading out to the track. David led Russian Winter up to the leading position in the line as they walked through the tunnel, coming out onto the track as the number one horse, shaking his jet black mane with an arrogant toss of his head.

"Whoa," Cindy murmured as they were handed off to an out rider, Cindy keeping a firm grip on the reins. Russian Winter lifted a little on his hind legs, froth beginning to line his dark lips, bounding next to the Appaloosa lead pony.

The line paraded past the grandstand, Russian Winter still putting on a show, refusing to settle down for Cindy. She tried to remember back to the post parade for the Florida Derby, reminding herself that Russian Winter was equally hyper then as well, pulling at the reins and prancing around. Nevertheless, Cindy's nerves were starting to pulse as she thought about how the race was going to play out. In an effort to calm down, she thought about Jack, who was up in Louisville and most likely watching the race, standing with the rest of the assistant trainers in the telecasting room of Churchill Downs, watching her at this very moment.

As they began to warm up in the far turn, the steady beats of Russian Winter's strides began to calm Cindy. She broke off from the lead pony and cantered the bay up the track, feeling him confidently eat up the ground, skipping through the dirt easily. Cindy breathed deeply, slowing the colt in the backstretch and heading him around, toward the starting gate.

She met back up with the Appaloosa as they joined the large group of twenty horses approaching the gate, Virtuous snorting and half rearing next to Russian Winter, who skittered sideways, ears back.

Cindy sat deep in the saddle, noticing her escort rider's hand grip on the colt's reins, bringing them up to the gate. They would be the first to load.

A starter met them at the gate, wasting no time pulling Russian Winter into the metal stall. Evidence followed closely, loading calmly, lowering his head as his jockey prepared. Cindy glanced sideways, listening to the banging as horses entered the gate, shifting and snorting, eyeing their neighbors out of the corners of eyes. Cindy pulled on her goggles, weaving her hand into the bay colt's mane, gripping the racing crop with the other as she prepared for the start, her heart beating loudly in her chest.

She glanced to her right, seeing the little red roan filly moving into line, and then she snapped her attention to the track, whispering to Russian Winter, keeping a steady flow of nonsensical words. Suddenly she heard a few yells from the starter and then the door flew open. Russian Winter reared, plunging out of the gate furiously, only to slow immediately as Cherokee Pride and Thirty Stars rushed up to battle for the lead, the other horses chasing after them as the field swept past the grandstand.

Cindy sat easily in the saddle, feeling Russian Winter gallop along at his own pace, ears back to listen for Cindy's commands. Cherokee Pride had won the duel with Thirty Stars, but he was running fast, speeding by the quarter mile pole in easily under twenty-two seconds. The field began to space out, Cindy keeping Russian Winter far back, two lengths behind Irish Luck as they sped into the backstretch, Cherokee Pride's gray body flying along the rail three lengths ahead in front.

Cindy sat tight, reminding herself that Russian Winter was a closer, not a front runner like Watchmaker. She settled in the bay's saddle, feeling him take the race in stride, letting the other horses run themselves weary after Cherokee Pride. As the gray zipped by the half mile marker, Cindy began to take stock of her mount, feeling for the bay colt's reserves. Russian Winter responded his a snort, bowing his neck as he ran, beginning to make up some ground.

"Not yet," Cindy called, checking him, keeping him glued to the rail as Cherokee Pride began to tire, giving up the lead to Thirty Stars. They were going amazingly fast, Cindy realized, watching the chestnut take over the race with a new vigor, about to head into the far turn.

Then Cindy lowered herself into the saddle. Irish Luck was already drawing away, pulling around horses to do a sweep of the field. Cindy would have to follow him, but she still bided her time.

The first horses were pouring into the far turn, pack runners moving up to challenge Thirty Stars as Cherokee Pride was rapidly falling back, exhausted from his battle for the lead.

Then Cindy hit the button, sliding her arms up to give Russian Winter rein.

In an instant, the bay colt exploded, roaring up behind horses and going five wide, rushing around to the middle of the track. Cindy sat quietly on his back, shifting her weight as he ran, urging him with her hands as he cruised around horses just finding their gear, but already tired from chasing after the pace. Russian Winter ran them down, fresh and energetic, running with playful snorts.

"Come on," Cindy called, raising up her crop and tapping it against the colt's hindquarters, getting him under control. She wasn't going to let him mess around. The bay still had four horses to pass.

Onyx Palace was holding his own on the rail, just switching his leads and bolting forward, trying to challenge Russian Winter as the bay cut through horses, galloping past the dark colt and up on the outside of Virtuous, passing him easily.

Only the filly, One Moment, and Irish Luck were left. Cindy rose the crop again and slapped it against Russian Winter's flank, demanding more speed. The colt poured it on, speeding up next to the roan filly, eyeing her down. Irish Luck dug down too, pushing Russian Winter as the bay colt strove to pass them, nostrils wide and rimmed with red. Cindy urged the colt on, flicking the crop past the colt's wide left eye, getting him to pull away by a neck, then finally a half length. The wire was drawing close and Cindy tucked herself against the colt's neck as close as possible, kneading the bay neck furiously for more.

Then they slipped under the wire a full length ahead, the colt's ears pricked and his neck dark with sweat.

Cindy rose in the saddle, her heart pounding like a jackhammer in her chest. The bay colt was immediately slowing down, dropping his head into a graceful curve, snorting and galloping softly up the track.

"Good race," called the jockey of One Moment. The roan filly was lathered and looking exhausted, snorting raggedly with each stride.

"Thanks," Cindy called, smiling and patting the colt's neck. "Your filly put in a good showing, too."

"Yeah, she did," he laughed, patting the filly's shoulder. "Second out of a field of ten isn't so bad. Maybe she's Kentucky Derby bound, after all."

"Maybe," Cindy smiled, pulling the bay down to a trot and finally a walk, turning him toward the winner's circle, where the Whitebrook clan would greet her.

"I propose a toast," Mike called over the busy dinner table at the Reese household, holding up his champagne glass. Everyone quieted, looking at Mike expectantly.

"This is to Cindy," Mike said, smiling. "For putting on Whitebrook silks again to help us out, and bringing home a victory and a Kentucky Derby favorite."

Ashleigh smiled, holding up her glass with her good hand, waiting for Mike to finish the rest. "And here's hoping she'll understand when Russian Winter wins the Derby."

Cindy laughed and drank along with everyone else, Samantha raising an eyebrow as she sipped her glass of water.

"Watch out, now," Cindy said, smiling. "Watchmaker may surprise you."

"When the day comes, Cindy," Mike laughed, sitting back down to pass the mashed potatoes.

Cindy chuckled and passed along the turkey to Christina, eyeing the girl's tiny glass of champagne.

"Mom let's us drink it on special occasions," Christina explained, picking up the tiny glass and frowning at the liquid. "I honestly don't like the taste all that much."

"It's something you have to acquire," Cindy said, holding up her own champagne flute. "You'll learn to like it."

"I don't think so," Christina laughed, shaking her head and making a face, passing on the turkey to Melanie, who made her own face at the meat and passed it on without taking any, going for the chicken instead.

"I think I'll just drink water like Sammy," Christina said, picking up her water glass instead and taking a long drink.

"Wait," Ashleigh said, holding up a hand and looking down the table at Samantha. "Why is it that you're only drinking water? Is this a new development?"

Cindy grinned across the table at Samantha, nudging her leg with her foot. Samantha nudged her back before giving Ashleigh a radiant smile, pushing back her long red hair from her face and grabbing Tor's hand.

"Actually," Samantha said, looking all around the table. "There is a new development. I'm pregnant."

"You're kidding!" Ashleigh shrieked, jumping up from her chair to go hug Samantha. "I can't believe it!"

At that point, the entire room erupted in exclamations and congratulations, Samantha and Tor in the middle of the whole thing. Samantha tried to answer all of Ashleigh's questions, while Tor dealt with Mike and Ian. Christina and Melanie were chattering between each other, throwing out possible names for the baby.

Cindy sat amidst it all, realizing how much she had missed these people, remembering celebrations past. She watched everyone around the table and suddenly felt like an outsider longing to be back in.


	19. Lost

19.

"Lost"

Cindy slammed the trunk of the rental car closed and rotated her shoulder, grimacing at the tiny slivers of pain that shot up and down her arm. It was just barely noticeable, Cindy groaned, but it was still there, as always.

"I can't believe you're already leaving!" Beth exclaimed, hugging Cindy to her hard, then pushing back to look into Cindy's eyes. "And I'm telling you -- bring by this Jack character so we can all get a good look at him. We're dying of curiosity."

"Dad will see him at Churchill," Cindy said, smiling over at her father, who gave an indifferent look, as though he didn't care whom his daughter was seeing. Cindy only laughed and hugged her father, patting him on the back before she stepped away.

"Cindy!" Christina called up from the track, making the older jockey look up. There was Christina holding Star, the beautiful chestnut colt snorting and carrying on next to her. "Watch Star's last work for me?"

"Sure!" Cindy called down, looking back at both her parents.

"Promise you'll come home for Christmas," Beth demanded, handing Cindy her purse.

"Sure, Mom," Cindy laughed, taking the expensive Italian bag and looping the strap over her shoulder.

"Cindy," Beth warned, her eyes bright. "I mean it."

At that Cindy nodded and gave her mother a final hug. "I'll see what I can do, Mom. A lot of stuff can happen between now and December."

"Okay," Beth laughed, letting Cindy go. "I've got to get to work."

"I'll call you when I get into Louisville, Mom," Cindy offered, backing down to the track.

Beth laughed and waved Cindy off before giving Ian a quick peck on the check and heading to her car. Cindy turned and walked down to the track just as Christina was heading Star out, the chestnut throwing up his head, his clipped mane whipping behind him like flashes of fire in the early morning light.

She stopped next to Ashleigh, setting a hand on the white plastic railing, watching the colt silently.

Star trotted up the track, arching his neck and pausing to buck playfully up the track, testing Christina with willful tugs on the reins. The young rider seemed to take the colt well, sitting through his outbursts and riding on, trying to get the young horse's interest on the track.

But Star wasn't going to have any of it. Suddenly the colt veered to the outside and plunged, trying to take Christina out on a wild gallop had the girl not been ready for it. Instead the colt was left prancing in place, shaking his head and blowing out of red-rimmed nostrils, his mouth gapping wide as Chris set him back to the rail, working him back up to the gap.

"He's a spitfire this morning," Ashleigh mused, unfolding her arms to check her ponytail.

Cindy nodded, watching as Christina brought the colt back in at a collected gallop, her arms visibly strained to hold Star back.

"Maybe you should breeze him," Cindy suggested, watching as Chris took the colt past the gap, Star's head craned up and eyes ringed with white.

"He was just breezed two days ago," Ashleigh shook her head, glancing down at her clipboard, reading Star's daily log. "Four furlongs in fifty-one flat."

Cindy nodded, thinking about the work. "That's fairly slow," she reasoned, shrugging. "You could do a light breeze for a quarter mile just to work some of that excitement out of him."

Ashleigh shook her head. "I don't think that's necessary. The last thing we need around here is another situation like Joy."

At that Cindy nearly choked, looking over at Ashleigh with wide eyes, but the older woman seemed to not realize what she had said. After that, Cindy stood in silence, watching Chris take the colt around the track again, Star finally seeming to settle into the pace Christina wanted.

Finally they strode up to the gap, the chestnut colt snorting, his breath thick with mist as he halted in front of Ashleigh.

"Looked good out there," Ashleigh said, smiling as Christina leapt off the colt, rubbing her arms.

"He nearly pulled the arms out of my sockets!" Chris exclaimed, patting the colt on the chest.

"He was a little worked up," Ashleigh nodded, leaning down to check the colt's legs after Chris led him off the track. "Why don't you go ahead and set him loose in his paddock?"

"Sure," Chris nodded, turning to Cindy. "What did you think?"

"He's looking great, Chris," Cindy nodded, very aware of the keys dangling in her hands. She was suddenly aching to leave, and not even talking to Chris could settle her sudden inhibition to fly away from Whitebrook as soon as she could. Just as soon as she had started to regret ever leaving she was ready to turn on her heel and run. Nothing had ever changed, and Cindy was sure she was a fool for believing that it could.

"Are you okay?" Chris asked, pausing as Star nudged her in the back, grunting playfully. "You look a little pale."

Cindy frowned and shook her head, noticing calmly that her hands were clammy as she fingered the keys to her rental car, beginning to fidget.

"I'm fine," she shook her head, reaching over to pat Star's nose, leaning down to kiss him goodbye. "But I've got to go. You'll be with your mom at Churchill, right?"

"Sure," Chris nodded, holding Star. "We're going up there in a few days to start Russ on the track."

"I'll see you then," Cindy said, finding it an effort to smile.

"Okay," Chris said, then grinned, taking a step forward to hug Cindy. "I'll see you up in Louisville."

"Right," Cindy agreed, hugging the girl back and then pushing away. She gave Star a last affectionate pat on the forehead and said a quick goodbye to Ashleigh, then turned to her rental quickly, striding up to the silver Camry.

When she slid into the driver's seat, Cindy started the engine and drove quickly out of the gravel lot, down to the electronic gate that swung open automatically for her. She steered the car out of the drive and onto the road, pressing on the gas too hard. The car roared forward, the warm spring air rushing into the car from the open windows, tangling in Cindy's long hair.

She sped down to the interstate, slowing just enough to climb up the entrance ramp to merge into the little traffic there was and head north.

An hour later she was off the highway and driving through the seedy area of Louisville, wondering why on earth the greatest racetrack in the world was surrounded with strip clubs and bars. But through the wreckage that the lower west side of Louisville was, rising through the small buildings, the twin spires before a background of baby blue sky.

Cindy slowed the car finally, turning to drive along the backside, glancing at the track from her car as she turned into the gate, flashing them her credentials. She waited the extra minutes it took for them to make her a parking pass and then she sped forward, kicking up gravel behind her.

"Barn 22," she muttered to herself, glancing at the note she had scribbled from the night before when she had called Lucas. Both Watchmaker and Well's Station were stabled in twenty-two, with most of the other big stakes competition around the Kentucky Derby.

She spotted the barn and pulled up next to it, parking and killing the engine, throwing the door open. When Cindy climbed out of the car, walking out into the gravel lot, she finally smiled, recognizing all the busy activity for the Derby. Horses were everywhere - being led by their handlers, grazing on the wide patches of grass around the backside, being hosed down and soaped up before being put in their stalls for the afternoon. It was just as Cindy remembered when she had helped Champion win his Triple Crown.

"Hey," she heard a low voice behind her and she spun around, grinning wildly.

"Jack!" Cindy exclaimed, practically throwing herself into the tall assistant trainer's arms.

Jack laughed deeply and picked Cindy up, swinging her around as she clung to his neck, giggling crazily. He finally put her down on the dusty gravel and tipped her chin up, kissing her lightly on the mouth.

"Had a good trip?" He asked, pulling away for a moment.

"I think I drove too fast," she laughed, giving him another quick kiss before turning around to survey everything. "How are the horses? Lucas has two winners on his hands now."

"Watchmaker got in great," Jack nodded, leading the way into the barn. "Well's Station apparently had a pretty hectic trip coming back from New York, but he's none the worst for wear."

"That's good," Cindy said, walking up to Watchmaker, who had his dark chestnut head hanging over his stall door, his long forelock getting in his eyes. The colt whickered a greeting and bobbed his head, shaking his blood red mane energetically at Cindy.

"Hey, boy," Cindy crooned, giving the colt a kiss on his nose once he stopped shaking his head so much. "It's good to see you."

Suddenly a bright bay head snuck into the picture, snorting and grunting happily. Cindy turned over to the bay and grinned, reaching over to rub Well's Station's forehead, tracing her fingers over the colt's white mark on his head.

She had never met Well's Station before, but after watching a tape of his Wood Memorial performance she already felt intimidated by him. Not only had the colt put in an amazing come from behind performance, he also blew away Watchmaker's time for the same distance.

The bay colt nudged Cindy, searching for treats, before dropping his head and snorting disdainfully, retreating back into his stall.

"Cindy," she heard Lucas behind her, a rough had slapping against her back. "Nice ride on Russian Winter. You made things a little hard for us."

"Well," Cindy shrugged, laughing. "With thirty thousand as the jockey's cut for the win I really had to give it my best shot."

"I'll bet," Lucas chuckled, leaning back on his heels. "I see you've met Well's Station."

Cindy nodded, turning to glance in on the bay, watching him tear ravenously at his hay net. "I have," she said, turning back. "He's pretty impressive. I bet it's going to be hard to divide your loyalties, huh?"

"I'll be sitting with the Watchmaker camp come Derby day," Lucas said, his eyes skipping over the red chestnut colt, who was busily licking at Jack's palm, his eyes half shut. "Did you show her the surprise yet, Jack?"

"Surprise?" Cindy asked, frowning. "What surprise?"

Jack looked up devilishly and nodded to the stall next to Well's Station. "Go have a look."

"Oh, you didn't," Cindy cried, turning and speeding over to the next stall, peering inside, where the gray colt looked up at her, his black-tipped ears pricking in her direction.

"I thought he wouldn't be ready to ship for at least another week," Cindy exclaimed, letting herself into the gray's stall as Lucas and Jack ambled over to the door, watching Cindy rub her hands over the colt's neck, inspecting King closely.

"Your Doctor Smith must be a miracle worker then," Jack responded, smiling at the look Cindy threw him before turning back to the colt, smiling up into his deep brown eyes.

"Actually he's healing faster than anticipated," Jack said, folding his arms on the stall door, watching Cindy. "Racing still isn't in his future, but it's safe to ferry him around with you, if that's what you want."

Cindy's grin immediately slipped into a frown as she looked at the sweet gray, her eyes dropping to the cast around his left fore.

"God, I don't know what I want to do with him yet," Cindy sighed, combing out the colt's black and white forelock with her slender fingers. "To be honest I haven't even thought about it."

"Well," Lucas grunted, leaning against the stall door. "I've got Churchill's permission to keep the colt here for as long as we're stabling Well's Station and Watchmaker. When they go, King goes."

"I'll give it some thought then," Cindy said, remembering that she could be searching for a stud farm to send him to, selling out stud shares to the highest bidder, but she had been at Whitebrook and as much as she had known she should think about King's destination she had found herself reminiscing instead.

Cindy placed a kiss on the colt's nose and checked his water before leaving the stall, satisfied with everything. The colt looked settled and calm, watching his visitors with steady eyes.

"Thanks for bringing him down here," Cindy said, smiling up at Jack. "It means the world to me."

"No prob, Cin," Jack said, nudging her in the side. "As long as I get some sort of repayment, I'll be happy."

Cindy snorted and narrowed her honey brown eyes at him, punching him lightly in the stomach.

Cindy spent the rest of the afternoon wandering through the backside, looking in on other Derby contenders, impressed with what she saw. For the Derby, colts were congregating from all over the nation, coming in mainly from Florida, California, Louisiana, Arkansas, New York, and Texas.

Cindy made her way through the main Derby barns, taking note of several good looking colts. There was Up to Heaven, a beautiful dark chestnut with a brilliant star in the center of his forehead, who had won the Gotham Stakes a few months ago, narrowly losing to Well's Station in the Wood Memorial. Then Model T, the gray Arkansas Derby winner, who had flown to an easy victory of five lengths, beating the second place finisher, Idle Majesty, another gray who was also coming to the Derby from his Rebel Stakes win.

Cindy soon found herself outside barn 19, the shrouded Godolphin stable, where Blue Dubai and his running mate, Seattle Sound, were stabled. Seattle Sound, a brilliant little filly, was being pointed toward the Kentucky Oaks the day before the Derby. She wasn't the favorite, but she had a legitimate chance despite coming off flying half way across the world.

Cindy had never been too impressed with the way Godolphin, which was headed by the crown prince of Dubai, lusted after the Derby. In her opinion, Godolphin tended to throw up huge amounts of money to buy the most expensive yearlings and two-year-olds from reputed sires, spiriting them off to Dubai until they were three and then sending them to Kentucky without a prep race to condition them. It was definitely not traditional, Cindy knew, and she found herself going back to Bob Baffert's words time and time again. They were trying to buy the race, and the Derby wasn't an easy race to buy.

Cindy turned from the long stable, heading down to barn 18, where a few other Derby horses were stabled. She walked into the open doors, head down, watching where she walked. When she looked up, she froze.

There, standing next to a huge bay colt, stood a figure she hadn't seen in years. It was almost as if she had been blown over when he turned toward her, his dark brown eyes widening slightly at the sight of her before a smile broke over his beautiful mouth.

"Cindy!" Ben al-Rihani exclaimed, handing the lead rope to the groom by his side and walking confidently up the aisle to greet her.

"It has been a long time," he said, smiling down at her shocked face.

"Ben," Cindy managed to gasp, staring up at him, dumbfounded. "I had no idea you were in Kentucky."

"I am here for the Derby," Ben chuckled, turning back to the bay horse, gesturing to the colt with a broad sweep of his arm. "Is he not spectacular?"

Cindy didn't even know what to say. Ben had seemed to not even stumble at the sight of her, picking up again as though Cindy hadn't left Dubai in a storming rush.

"My father purchased him as a yearling at the Keeneland sale. He is a Storm Cat colt out of a Mr. Prospector mare."

"Those are royal bloodlines," Cindy managed to say, witnessing herself being ushered up to the colt.

Ben chuckled and patted the bay's neck, running his other hand over the colt's blaze-marked face. "His name is Rawun."

"This is your Derby contender?" Cindy asked, watching the giant bay incredulously. So the Sheik had finally found his horse, she thought, arching an eyebrow quietly.

"Of course," Ben said, motioning for the groom to put the colt back in the stall. "My father has great confidence in him. He has been the best runner out of our mock races in Dubai."

"Mock races," Cindy muttered to herself, remembering the term. Godolphin did the same thing in determining which horse was worthy to be sent to Kentucky. Usually the races were less serious compared to the rigorous tests American horses went through running in traditional preps, which was one of the main criticisms handicappers placed on horses from the U.A.E.

"May I ask what you are doing here?" Ben asked, drawing Cindy aside.

"I'm riding in the Derby this year," Cindy said, looking up at Ben's face, which seemed to have only grown more handsome has he had aged. "On Watchmaker, Lucas Simm's colt."

"Yes," Ben nodded. "The Santa Anita Derby winner. A very impressive race, Cindy."

Almost instantly, a red blush rose up in Cindy's cheeks at the knowledge that Ben had watched that race, and had been watching her.

"Thanks," Cindy said, trying not to smile at the praise. "I guess I did make some sort of jockey out of myself."

The moment the words came out of her mouth she regretted them, wishing she could snatch them back. Ben's eyes grew dark as he stood before her, nodding to himself.

"I am sorry about what happened in Dubai, Cindy," he said, watching her carefully. "You were right in wanting to come back here, where you had a chance to prove your worth. There was nothing for you in the U.A.E."

Cindy bit back her words, wanting to suddenly yell at him that he was in Dubai, and, if that wasn't enough, Champion was there, too.

He smiled at her grimly, running his tanned fingers through his dark hair.

"How's Champion?" Cindy suddenly asked, not wanting to think about their past arguments in Dubai over her jockeying. "Is he doing well?"

"I'm glad you asked about that," Ben said, suddenly smiling, his deep brown eyes warming. "Champion is just as strong as ever. In fact, we've bought a farm in Kentucky, just outside of Lexington, where we plan to head our American branch. My father wants to move Champion back to Kentucky, Cindy."

"Oh my God," Cindy whispered, completely amazed. "You're bringing Champion back?"

Ben nodded, smiling. "Yes. Since you left, my father's farm has expanded considerably. So much so he decided we should expand into America. That way we would have an easier access to the American races, such as the Derby. We're going to send four of our stallions to this new branch, and Champion is one among them."

"That's fantastic!" Cindy cried suddenly, her brown eyes alight. "When will he be here?"

"We're going to start shipping stock sometime this summer," Ben grinned, obviously happy to see Cindy's reaction. "I would love to have you come see Champion after he has been transported."

Cindy was speechless, her eyes misting up from the news that she may see Champion soon. Just thinking of the grand dark chestnut was enough to feel her chest tighten.

"Actually, Cindy," Ben said, lowering his voice. "We will be shipping racing stock as well to the new branch, and my father has given me the task to find someone suitable to train them. Normally I wouldn't be so sudden about this, but you were exactly the person I was hoping to find for this job. I would be deeply honored if you accepted."

Cindy couldn't do anything except stare at Ben, wondering where this was all coming from. The tightness in her chest was suddenly overcome by the rapid beating of her heart as Ben watched her, suddenly smiling.

"You need not answer now, Cindy," he chuckled, looking over at the great bay. "But I would like an answer sometime soon. Perhaps I should go into greater detail. Would over dinner be appropriate?"

Cindy suddenly sucked in a breath, holding up a hand, remembering that she wasn't a stupid eighteen year old anymore.

"Ben," she shook her head, taking another deep breath. "That all sounds fantastic, but where is this coming from? Don't you remember why I left Dubai in the first place? I was under the impression that you had the same opinions as your father about women and horses."

Ben sighed and nodded. "Cindy, my father is a man of great reputation. He holds the highest regard for the old ways, the traditional ways. What you overheard was a losing battle on my part."

"And you would be willing to defend me if I came to train your father's American branch?" Cindy asked, not believing him.

"Yes," Ben said, nodding firmly. "I am in charge of operations here. He has given me free rein to pick whomever I choose, and I give you the first offer."

Cindy stood for a moment, suddenly remembering Jack. She was supposed to meet him at the hotel before they went out to dinner with Watchmaker's owners.

"I just don't know, Ben," Cindy sighed, beginning to back away.

"You aren't turning it down yet," Ben assumed, looking hopeful.

"Not yet," Cindy sighed, rubbing her forehead. Things were getting complicated too fast. There was Jack to take into consideration now, and she still had no real idea where her relationship with him was going yet. Everything was too new to be certain.

"Cindy," Ben began, stepping forward.

"No, Ben," Cindy raised a hand, giving him a startling look that stopped him in his tracks. "Just let me think about it. I'll give you an answer soon. Let me think it through first. You don't know how much you're asking of me."

Ben nodded and Cindy spun around, walking quickly out of barn 18 and into the blinding Kentucky light.


	20. In Conclusion

20.

"In Conclusion"

Derby fever had hit Louisville, and Cindy couldn't help getting caught up in it. The track was looking fantastic, glittering white and gray, the gardens around the winner's circle vibrant with red tulips and small yellow flowers. Everything was coming into place, Cindy thought, standing by the rail watching the brilliant Thoroughbreds work out the kinks in the track, and Ben offering her a job at his father's new American facility was something she did not want to think about.

Instead, it was Watchmaker's last breeze before the Derby, and Cindy had promised Lucas she'd make it a good one, especially since the red colt had put in a less than stellar first appearance on the track his first day, breezing a moderate time and being no more impressive than the common colt. Not that Lucas wanted the colt looking impressive in his works. Watchmaker was more than reliable in a race, and the papers knew it.

"Cindy!"

She heard her name and turned, seeing Christina leading Russian Winter down to the track, her mother and Ian following along closely.

"Hey, Chris!" Cindy grinned, watching the trio approach with the bay colt, looking fantastic in the early Kentucky morning. Ashleigh had gotten in with Russian Winter two days ago, and the bay was looking quite settled into his new location.

"Are you breezing today?" Chris asked eagerly, stopping the bay at the rail and looking down at Cindy.

"Sure are," Cindy said, smiling out at the track were several of the Derby contenders were working, their perfect bodies moving effortlessly over the well-tilled track.

"Great," Chris nodded. "We're going to breeze Russ, too. This is mom's first time up since she fell."

Cindy glanced over at Ashleigh, noticing the cast was gone. "How's the arm?" She asked the older woman coolly, noticing the support bandage around Ashleigh's forearm.

"Feeling pretty good," Ashleigh smiled. "I think I can control a half ton horse with it, in any case."

Cindy nodded, looking back up at the barns when she caught a flash of red. Lucas and Jack were leading Watchmaker, the beautiful dark chestnut floating over the gravel as they made their way down to the track.

"There's my ride," Cindy nodded over to the colt, backing up as the red colt approached, his head up, ears pricked at Russian Winter.

"Whoa," Jack spoke evenly to the colt, as Watchmaker strained against his hold. In response the colt arched his neck and turned, butting his head firmly into Jack's torso, rubbing the side of his face along Jack's black t-shirt.

Jack chuckled and slapped his hand against Watchmaker's thick neck, making the beautiful colt pull away and dance his hindquarters around, as if he knew he was showing off in front of the bay colt.

"He's a beauty," Christina breathed as Jack and Lucas stopped next to Cindy, Watchmaker coming to a tentative halt between the two, taking a curious look around.

Cindy nodded absently, her mind more on Jack, watching him and then glancing at her father, who was trying to remain interested in the red colt. Cindy suddenly grinned, knowing she'd have to do some formal introductions. Even Ashleigh was beginning to give her the eye.

"Dad," Cindy suddenly said, grabbing Ian's arm and reaching over for Jack's free hand. The two men looked surprised, as though they knew they were going to have to go through the most awkward moment of their lives right now, at Cindy's bidding.

Cindy smiled up at Jack before turning back to her father, giving them both assuring looks. "Dad, this is Jack Fieldman, Lucas' assistant trainer."

Cindy let go of Jack so the two men could shake hands. "Jack, his is my dad, Ian McLean."

"Hello, Sir," Jack nodded, grasping Ian's hand.

"Jack," Ian nodded back, shaking the assistant trainer's arm. "I've heard much about you while Cindy was with us down in Lexington."

Cindy raised one eyebrow, smiling as Christina nudged her in the side with her elbow, the younger girl all grins.

To Cindy's surprise, the two men slipped easily into conversation, delving straight into what Cindy knew they were going to talk about -- the post position draw. It was going to be held later that afternoon.

"Cindy," Lucas motioned, taking Watchmaker from Jack, who was completely immersed in talking strategy with Ian.

"Yeah?" Cindy asked, watching Ashleigh jump up onto Russian Winter in the corner of her eye. The bay colt strode out proudly on the track, shaking his jet mane.

"We're going to do a five furlong work," Lucas said, checking the colt's girth and holding him as Cindy vaulted into the saddle. "I don't want anything fancy. No blow outs, and no urging him. I want him as fresh as possible for the Derby, and pushing him may overdo it."

"Got it," Cindy nodded, buckling her hard hat over her long blond hair, which hung free in a pony tail behind her head.

"Once around and start the breeze at the three eighths pole," Lucas said as Cindy urged Watchmaker onto the track, the red chestnut huffing and snorting great misty breaths in the early morning air, the steam pluming around his dark muzzle as he stepped forward, his dark red mane flying around his neck as the breeze picked up, ruffling through Cindy's hair.

"Alright," Cindy murmured, standing up in the stirrups and leaning over, pushing the colt into a trot and finally a canter, working their way up the track. Cindy could see Russian Winter's bright bay body lightly galloping along the rail on the other side of the track, Ashleigh crouched over his neck in her blue Whitebrook wind breaker, her shoulder length brown hair flying around her hard hat.

There were Derby horses all over the track. In Reason was breezing around the far turn, his dark bay body skimming along the rail as he clocked off fractions, black mane and tail billowing behind him. Countdown was prancing along the outside, his plain bay coat glimmering under the rising sun. Model T and Idle Majesty were working together around the first turn, lightly galloping, their dapple gray bodies shimmering pewter.

Then Cindy spotted the giant bay, Rawun, pounding up on her outside, bellowing snorts and shaking his head high, covered in sweat. Cindy frowned as she watched the colt, who obviously wasn't settling under his rider. She checked Watchmaker as the bay sent a shower of dirt their way, kicking up his heels and heading to the inside of the track, where he would begin his breeze.

Cindy glanced to the side of the track, slowing Watchmaker to a high spirited trot when she caught Ben's dark features by the rail, his eyes on Watchmaker's blood red presence. Cindy frowned at him and turned her head, signaling Watchmaker to gallop.

The dark red colt pushed forward, angling inside as Cindy began to warm him up, coming into the stretch. She could see Blue Dubai ahead of her, his chocolate legs churning up the dirt as he galloped slowly, his regal head arched beautifully.

Watchmaker snorted, pulling on the reins as they passed the Godolphin colt at a faster pace, working into the breeze. Ashleigh was already flying on Russian Winter, the bright bay galloping his heart out along the rail. Suddenly Watchmaker shook his head and plunged forward, snorting and squealing deep in his throat, skittering across the track as Cindy tugged him back toward the inside rail, switching him into a faster gallop before the colt had time to react.

Watchmaker was moving, galloping strongly into the first turn, the three eights pole getting closer with each giant breath the red colt took. Cindy could see Ian and Jack by the rail, Lucas further off, his stopwatch out and in his hand, fingers hovering over the buttons.

"Alright," Cindy whispered, hearing only the sounds of Watchmaker's hooves thudding against the dirt and his ragged breathing as he ran, ears flicked back to listen closely to Cindy's commands.

"Now," Cindy said softly as they passed the marker, pushing with her hands as the colt bounded, shoving himself into the breeze with a huge thrust from his hind quarters.

Cindy sat tight, hunched over the colt's back, feeling the Watchmaker's muscles bunch and release, propelling him along the rail as he ran, his ears pinned back, nostrils flared as he snorted with each shattering stride.

Watchmaker was steadily moving faster, beating up the dirt with his hooves, sending it flying behind him as he ran, his body so close to the rail that Cindy could feel the outside of her boot striking against the white plastic.

Soon the colt was battling into the far turn, only going faster, carrying Cindy on his back without a care in the world. Cindy began to smile, shifting with the colt, not encouraging him at all as he swept into the stretch, powering by the last quarter mile pole, his red body becoming streaked with sweat as he ran, pushing off the ground, flying.

Cindy sucked in a huge breath as the colt blew past the finish line, showing no signs of stopping. Cindy stood in the stirrups, leaning back and hauling on the reins, slowing the colt, who snorted and dropped into a slow gallop and finally a canter, loping up to the gap, where Lucas was standing with a gaping mouth.

"Do you realize how fast he was going?" Lucas asked, rubbing his hand through his hair, shaking his head.

"I know it was fast," Cindy said, smiling, and patting the colt's neck. Watchmaker squealed and jumped, shying away from the fence as Dave, the colt's groom for the Derby, came to collect him.

"He just went the five furlongs in under a minute," Lucas said in astonishment, watching the colt prance in place, eyeing Russian Winter, who was coming off the track as well, Ashleigh beaming.

"That was a fantastic work, Cin," she said as she jumped off. "Nearly beat Russ' time. Just a fraction off."

The bay colt swaggered off the track, his body damp with sweat and lather as Christina collected took his reins, giving Cindy a smile. "I'm going to give him a bath. I'll see you at the post position draw, Cindy."

"Sure, Chris," Cindy nodded, watching the young girl lead the bay off, following after Dave and Watchmaker.

"Almost too fast," Cindy said, frowning as she looked back at Lucas.

"Almost," Lucas said, putting the stopwatch back in his pocket. "But not too bad. He's got tons of energy and we've got the next two days to walk him out."

Cindy nodded and pulled off her hard hat.

"Not so fast, Cin," Lucas said, holding up his hand as she started to walk up to the barn, where she had no doubt that she would find Ian and Jack. "My jockey for Well's Station had to go down to Keeneland today. I need you to take the ride."

Cindy saw Jack leading Well's Station down to the track, the bay colt prancing next to him, snorting.

"Got it," Cindy nodded, putting her hard hat back on as Jack stopped the colt and gave her a leg up, her mind skipping forward, thinking about the coming Saturday.

Cindy stood in front of the mirror of the grand old hotel, staring at herself in the reflection. She had managed to curl all of her long blond hair and pile it on top of her head in what looked to Cindy like organized chaos. Silently she thanked her mother for teaching her something feminine. Cindy had thought she wasn't listening when Beth did her hair for all those dances in junior high, but it amazed her when it all came rushing back so easily.

"You look great," Jack said, laying on the bed in a pair of beat up jeans.

Cindy snorted, pushing the last bobby pin into her hair and turning around, her red evening gown rustling around her feet. "And what have you been doing for the past thirty minutes?"

"Things," Jack said, smiling up at her.

"Oh?" Cindy asked, frowning. "It looks like you basically just took a shower and started putting on your work clothes again."

"Like I said," Jack laughed. "Very important things."

"Get dressed," Cindy demanded, tugging at his arm playfully. "We've got to be down in the lobby at seven."

"And you truly believe that if we're late Lucas is just going to leave us here?" Jack asked, standing up, suddenly towering over Cindy. "Actually, it would be nice if he left us."

"Jack," Cindy groaned, pushing him to the closet. "This is the Kentucky Derby party. How often do you get to go to this?"

"Well," Jack frowned, making a show at racking his mind, then looking up brightly as though he finally figured it out. "Approximately once a year."

"Right," Cindy snorted, arching an incredulous eyebrow at him. "And I suppose you spirit off to Russia twice a month, too."

"You know," Jack grinned, throwing the tux out onto the bed. "You would be surprised."

"Just stop right there," Cindy held up her hands, shaking her head. "You get dressed, and I'm gonna go down the hall to see if Ash and everyone else is all set. I'll meet you in the lobby at seven."

"You do that," Jack said. "I'll be right here making international phone calls and arranging flight plans."

"Shut up," Cindy called, catching his satisfied smirk as she left the room, walking in her new high heels down the hallway to Ashleigh and Mike's room, knocking softly on the wood.

The door flew open and Cindy was greeted by a very excited Christina who pulled her into the room quickly. Cindy did a quick scan of the room and found everyone, including her father and even Parker, in there already.

"You look beautiful," Christina cried, touching the soft red material of the dress.

"That is a gorgeous dress, Cindy," Ashleigh nodded, walking up to her with a smile.

"Thanks," Cindy laughed, looking down at the sweeping red gown. "I had my reservations when Heather forced it on me."

"You look excellent, sweetheart," Ian smiled, hugging her.

"Thanks, dad," Cindy grinned, looking back at Christina, who was wearing a dark blue dress, and Parker, who came up to stand nearby.

"Hi, Parker," Cindy smiled warmly at him, still amazed at the tall boy. The Townsend's had come in with a late entry the other day, entering a big bay named Townsend Grand, the winner of the Lexington Stakes. The colt was a long shot, but as expected Brad and Lavinia walked through the stables as if they owned the favorite for the race. Cindy had managed to avoid a run in so far, but she was sure that wouldn't be possible on Saturday.

"Hi, Cindy," Parker nodded. "How's King?"

"He's doing really well," Cindy smiled at the mention of the gray. "He's at Churchill, actually. If you want to see him, he's right in barn twenty-two."

Before Parker could say anything, Ashleigh called, "Are we ready to head down to the lobby? Mr. Simm said seven, right?"

"Right," Cindy nodded. "Jack is going to meet us down there."

By the time they had gotten down to the lobby of the hotel, Jack and Lucas were already there, talking quietly together by the entrance.

Cindy grinned when she saw Jack. His near black hair was still fairly wild, which Cindy had gotten used to, but the rest of him was perfect, even down to the polished black shoes. When they approached, Jack looked up and caught Cindy's brown eyes, his own blue eyes watching her brightly.

"Hey," she greeted him, grinning as she grabbed his hand.

"Do I know you?" He asked, laughing as she pushed him lightly in the side.

Cindy groaned and turned when she heard Christina laugh, the young girl's eyes sparkling as she grinned at Jack.

"You really are impossible," Cindy murmured to him, watching her father smile at them.

"I think you've told me that before," Jack murmured back mischievously.

"Then I'll reiterate," Cindy smiled smugly, following Ashleigh out the door as the older jockey headed for the black limo parked just outside.

The week of the Kentucky Derby in Louisville was always upbeat and stunning, and the day before the Derby, in many infamous Fridays, was always the time of the pre-Derby parties. Cindy sat in the limo, watching the Kentucky landscape slip by as they drove out to the outskirts of Louisville, the rolling hills and tall trees sliding by in the dusk.

"I can't believe it," Cindy grinned, turning from the window to look over at Jack. "Herman Brown," she chuckled. "Never in my life did I think I was going to go to a Derby party at Belle Acres!"

Herman Brown was the owner of the principle breeding farm in Kentucky, Belle Acres, which had bred four Derby winners, and had three horses in the upcoming Derby -- Eyes on the Prize, Idle Majesty, and Up to Heaven. He also held one of the largest Derby parties in the nation. Not only were most of the owners and trainers involved in the Derby going, but, rumor had it, Jack Nicholson and Donald Trump would also make an appearance.

Soon, as the limo began exiting the highway, Cindy could feel the excitement in the car as they moved past the long stretch of black fences and wide green paddocks. As they came over the slight rise, the house suddenly appeared, flanked by huge, stately oaks.

Cindy stared in awe as they drove through the open gates, heading up the paved, oak-lined drive to the house. Horses were grazing in the purple dusk, their earth-toned bodies shimmering under the fiery sun and the bruised clouds colored royal blue and brilliant lavender.

"Oh my God," Christina gasped as they drove up to the house, past the lines of luxury cars and around the circular drive, slowing next to the fountain in the middle of the oval. Cindy stared up at the house, the marble Greek portico glimmering.

"This is amazing," she whispered as the limo's engine cut and the driver got out, coming around the side of the long black car to open their door. Cindy gave the driver a smile and slid out of the car, smoothing over her dark red dress with shaking hands. She turned around as Jack climbed out after her, taking a look around.

"A little much?" Jack laughed, eyeing the huge fountain with its rearing horses, their stone manes flowing behind them.

"It's all in the spirit," Cindy said, looking up at him.

"It's nothing my parents wouldn't think of doing," Parker snorted, as everyone filed out of the limo, following Christina over to Cindy and Jack.

"Okay," Ashleigh grinned as she joined the group with Mike, Ian, and Lucas behind her. "Do we have a meeting time?"

"I say midnight," Mike volunteered. "We've got to get to the track early tomorrow for the race."

"Sounds good," Lucas seconded, nodding his head as he frowned at his spiffy clothes. Cindy stifled a laugh, knowing Lucas had never been too fond of the parties and all the showcasing they involved. He certainly looked out of place in a tux.

"Alright, then," Ashleigh nodded, giving Christina a look. "And you stay away from the drinks," she ordered. "One small mint julep, and nothing more."

"Not a problem," Christina nodded, looking back at Parker. "Don't like champagne as it is."

"Then let's get going," Mike called, heading up to the steps.

As soon as Cindy got inside the house she was struck dumb by the luxury of it. Everything was hardwood and silk, huge old paintings on the walls and old oriental carpets. Everything about it was typical to old Kentucky homes. There were people everywhere, grouped together with a drink in one hand, the other flamboyantly gesturing, talking loudly. Everyone was overdressed for the occasion.

Cindy soon found herself at the bar getting three mint juleps - one for her and two small ones for Christina and Parker.

"You look astonishing, Cindy."

She heard the words behind her and whirled around as the bartender made the drinks, looking up.

"Ben?" She stuttered, staring. This was the last thing she needed, especially with Jack a mere ten yards away. She still hadn't told him about the job offer, and she found herself wondering if she should.

"Hello," the handsome owner smiled down at her. "I had hoped to see you tonight, since I didn't have the opportunity to speak with you during the post position draw."

Cindy nodded nervously, turning around as Ben came to stand next to her, watching the drinks being made.

"It is bad luck about your colt's position," Ben frowned, looking down at Cindy with his warm, brown eyes.

"We'll manage," Cindy frowned, wishing the bartender would hurry up. "Plenty of horses have it worse than us."

Still, Cindy sighed to herself, post sixteen would never be good for a front runner. When they had pulled number 16 out of the bottle for Watchmaker, Cindy knew they had virtually no chance at any good position. When their turn had come around to pick their post, 16, 17, and 18 were all that were left. Lucas had no choice where to put Watchmaker.

"We would've liked close to the rail," Cindy said, talking quietly, almost to herself. "But then with eighteen horses in the race the post is hardly what matters."

"That is true," Ben said, reaching out for his own whiskey that the bartender set in front of him. "We were lucky that Rawun got the third pick."

Cindy nodded. Ben had chosen post 8 for Rawun, which was a prime position, according to some. Over the years Cindy had stopped paying attention to the post positions, since most Derby winners seemed to overcome them.

"Have you come to any conclusion over the job offer?" Ben asked, changing the subject as the bartender finished the second drink.

"Not yet," Cindy sighed, glancing over at Jack. He was watching her, his dark blue eyes scanning over her. She could feel them half way across the room, and somehow she knew he was about to come over to her.

"After the Derby I'll have an answer," Cindy said rapidly, watching Jack shift forward, beginning to move through the room, leaving his conversations.

"I need it soon, Cindy," Ben responded. "My father is asking about it. He wants to start moving stock to Tall Oaks as soon as possible."

"I understand," Cindy said, taking a sip of her own drink, licking her lips of the mint taste. "I have a lot on my mind right now, Ben."

"I also understand that," Ben was saying as Jack approached, Cindy becoming increasingly jumpy. When she felt Jack's hand suddenly slide around her waist she nearly screamed, whirling around.

"Whoa," Jack chuckled, setting down his bourbon and steadying Cindy.

"Jack," Cindy breathed, putting a hand on her stomach, shutting her eyes. "Don't scare me like that."

"Pre-Derby jitters, I guess," Jack laughed, looking over at Ben, introducing himself.

Cindy groaned silently, moving closer to the bar as the two men began talking behind her. She leaned against the bar, wishing quietly that Ben wouldn't bring up the job.

Finally the bartender handed her the last drink and she grabbed it, handing him the money and a tip and turned around, facing the two men.

"Jack," she cut into their conversation, smiling at him. "Do you know where Parker and Christina ran off to?"

"I think they escaped outside to the back porch," Jack said, motioning to the far side of the huge house.

"Great," Cindy smiled. "I will be right back."

She scooted between Ben and Jack, heaving a heavy breath as she made her way through the house, getting caught in several conversations as she tried to make her way to the back porch. She bounced from conversation to conversation, even exchanging a few words with Jack Nicholson, who told her quite loudly that he had all his money on Watchmaker and to quit listening to the fools betting on Russian Winter, before finding her goal: the door to the porch.

She slid out onto the stone porch, looking up and down the rock walkway and the elaborate gardens and lawns. She frowned, glancing down at the three glasses she was carrying before she began to walk past more groups of people, keeping her eyes peeled for Chris' blue dress. Finally she saw a blue wisp of Christina's dress around the corner and she headed for it, turning through the gardens.

"Chris?" She asked, peering around the corner and immediately blushing, taking a step back.

"I'm sorry," she said after a quick pause, watching Christina jump away from Parker, a blush of her own rising up in her cheeks.

"It's okay, Cindy," Christina laughed, smiling at Cindy and down at the drinks. "Are those for us?"

"Yes," Cindy nodded, handing Parker and Christina both a glass. "Your first and last, as your mother's orders."

"Thanks," Christina took the glasses, handing Parker his.

"Are you two going to hide outside all night or come inside for a while?" Cindy asked, a smile skirting around her lips.

Parker laughed, and Christina nodded. "We'll be inside in a minute, I promise."

"Okay," Cindy grinned, reaching out and squeezing Christina's hand before heading back through the gardens, turning the corner to nearly slam straight into Jack.

"Jack," Cindy frowned, pushing back to look up at him.

"Hey," he frowned, taking her hand. "I've got to talk to you for a second."

At those words Cindy's heart went into a frenzy of wild beats. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears as he led her through the gardens, stopping in a quiet place. Cindy glanced down at a bench surrounded in white bleeding hearts and sat down, staring up at Jack, her heart pounding against her chest.

"What's wrong, Jack?" Cindy asked, watching him sit down next to her.

He sighed, raking his hands through his dark hair, messing it up unconsciously. Cindy smiled at him, and then looked down at her drink.

"When exactly were you going to tell me about all this, Cin?" he asked her suddenly, looking over at her.

"Which part?" Cindy asked miserably, setting her glass by her on the bench, hugging herself.

"Both parts," Jack requested, reaching over and tipping her head up so he could see her face. "And let's start at the beginning."

Cindy sighed and shuddered, hating these moments, wishing she could do something right for a change.

"I worked for Ben's father back when I was a teenager," Cindy began to explain with a sigh.

"I know that part," Jack interrupted.

"I thought you said from the beginning," Cindy protested.

"Okay," Jack sighed, rising up his hands.

"I worked for Ben's father in Dubai," Cindy began again. "And I went to oversee Champion, who had just been sold. At the time I thought I was doing it for Champion only, but I also did it for myself. I had a little crush on Ben back then that I think I mistook for love."

"Seriously," Jack said, stopping himself from laughing.

"Yes," Cindy groaned, shaking her head. "I mean, I know it was a crush now. I'm not stupid. I barely ever saw him in Dubai, but he has a presence about him. You have to admit that."

"Okay," Jack said slowly. "So, you had a crush on this guy."

"Right," Cindy sighed, going on. She told him the whole story - the doubts about her riding, leaving Champion in Dubai, and going back to Whitebrook only to leave devastated.

"It was Joy, then," Jack said, leaning forward, resting his arms on his legs and looking down at the path. "I always wondered why you left Whitebrook."

"Yeah," Cindy frowned, remembering watching the filly struggle and fall, her beautiful dark gray body writhing in the soft dirt. There had been no hope for Joy, and Cindy had taken the blame.

"After Joy died Ashleigh and me have never been the same. Things just changed, and I knew Ashleigh couldn't bear to look at me any more," Cindy frowned. "I pushed that filly too hard, and I never listened when Ashleigh told me to let up."

"Cindy," Jack sighed, looking over at her, his blue eyes dim in the darkness. "Why didn't you tell me about Ben's job offer?"

"I can't believe he told you about that," Cindy sighed, shaking her head.

"I can't believe that you didn't tell me about it," Jack said. "I'd say that's a pretty big step for you, Cin. Were you going to leave me in the dark about it as long as you could?"

"No," Cindy shook her head, closing her eyes tightly and opening them. "I just don't know, Jack. I didn't know what you would say. The only thing that would make me take it is Champion. He's going to be standing at stud at Tall Oaks come next spring, and I desperately wanted to see him…"

"Cindy," Jack broke in, looking at her. "If you want to take the job, take it."

Cindy stumbled to a halt, looking at him fiercely. "But," she managed to say. "What about this?"

"I've known you for years," Jack said, smiling, reaching over to grab her hand, looking at her tiny palm in his. "I'm not ending anything here, Cindy. If Watchmaker wins the Derby tomorrow I'll have the biggest chance to start my own training line. I'll take a barn down at Keeneland if I have to."

Cindy sat and stared at him, a smile crawling up her mouth. "You'd follow me?"

Jack chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't consider it following. I consider it starting out small."

"That's so sweet," Cindy laughed.

"You didn't hear me, did you?" Jack asked, smiling at her.

"No," Cindy grinned playfully, putting her head on his shoulder.

"Hey," he said, tipping her chin up. "You know I love you. You've known that for a long time. Think about this job thing and if you really want it I'll make arrangements."

"Seriously?" Cindy asked, cocking a blond eyebrow at him.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Seriously."

"I told Ben I would know after the Derby," Cindy said, looking at Jack intensely. "I have to have an answer then."

"Then get moving on the considering," Jack said, landing a quick kiss on her lips. Cindy stood up, pulling him off the bench.

"I'm sorry for not telling you," Cindy said, craning her head back to look at him towering above her. "Everything has been happening so suddenly around here I just didn't know what to do."

"I'm going to be around, Cin," Jack responded, lowering his head. "A lot. And that, in my opinion, isn't going to change. So get used to telling me stuff, alright?"

"I got you," Cindy murmured, pulling his head down for a lingering kiss, smiling up at him. "We should get back to the party."

"Lead the way," he said, gesturing to the path ahead of him. Cindy stepped down the pebble walk, the full moon shining through the full trees, the silvery light shining over her blond hair and dark red dress, lighting up her brown eyes. She turned back to Jack just before she reached the door, grinning up at his dark blue eyes and messy black hair before he quickly stole another kiss, wrapping an arm around her waist.

Cindy pulled back when she heard a small laugh, glancing down the porch to see Christina and Parker stopped on the rock path. Christina was all grins and glittering eyes, lifting a hand to daintily wave at Cindy.

"Shame on you, Christina Reese!" Cindy called softly down at the young girl, only making Christina laugh, then tug on Parker's hand as they filed back inside the mansion, joining the growing party.


	21. The First Mythical Saturday

21.

"The First Mythical Saturday"

The alarm was going off insistently by the bedside, the glowing green numbers cutting through the dark room. Cindy groaned and opened her eyes a tiny bit, making out the digital numbers, sighing loudly as she reached over, grabbing the small clock off the bed stand before it could make another noise. She clicked the alarm off and tossed it off the bed, hearing the small thunk of the plastic against the carpeting.

She sighed, rolling over, nudging Jack's form, and trying to wriggle out from under his arm that wrapped around her. Suddenly his arm grew stronger and flexed around her, keeping her still.

"Jack," Cindy sighed, kicking at his legs.

"Ready and awaiting orders, sir," Jack mumbled, still half asleep.

Cindy chuckled through her sleepiness and pushed at his bare chest, finally getting him to open his eyes. "We've got to be at the track by six, otherwise Lucas may kill us."

"He isn't that sinister, Cindy," Jack said, letting her go as she sat up, tumbling out of the bed. "I think we can take him."

"Right," Cindy snorted, pushing at her tangled hair as she made her way across the hotel room, walking into the bathroom. "This is the Kentucky Derby," Cindy called as she pulled out her toothbrush and set to work. "It's going to be mass chaos down there if we don't hurry."

"It's already mass chaos over there, Cin," Jack stated, suddenly appearing leaning against the door, watching her brush her teeth. "That's a given."

"We stayed at that party too long," Cindy said through a mouthful of toothpaste, bending over to spit in the sink, rinsing her mouth out before looking back at Jack. "If you and Jack Nicholson hadn't hit it off so well I'd be a little more with it right now."

Jack started laughing, watching Cindy give him one of her classic frustrated looks.

"Really!" Cindy cried, walking over to the shower, turning it on. "Stayed up until two all because of Jack Nicholson. I'm surprised Ashleigh agreed to stay that long."

After a moment of testing the water, feeling the warm spray finally hit her fingertips, she chuckled. "Okay, that is a little funny," she admitted, glancing back at Jack, who was leaning against the door post, watching her with a wide grin on his face.

"I'm taking a shower now," Cindy informed him, watching him expectantly.

"So I see," Jack said, staying put.

"Jack," Cindy lowered her voice, giving him a threatening growl.

He just laughed and shook his head, turning around and shutting the door behind him, calling, "It isn't like I haven't seen it all before, Cin."

"Watch it," Cindy called through the door, rolling her eyes with a playful smile before she climbed into the hot steam.

Cindy sat on Watchmaker's back, feeling the colt's powerful body underneath her as she stared out at the track, watching the other Derby contenders walk and canter along under the vast shadows of the twin spires.

Watchmaker snorted, bellowing a misty breath through his nostrils as he stepped out through the gap, his red body taunt with excitement as he pranced forward, lifting his hooves as though he were a dressage horse entering the arena, his ears pricked, red mane and tail billowing back in a soft breeze that swept over the track.

"Whoa, Red," Cindy murmured, feeling the colt beneath her as he trembled with the intensity of the morning works. The excitement was riding through the air, sweeping through the track on wings. NBC camera crews were setting up around the track, the massive black cameras swinging over the grandstand, capturing the warming colts, their coats dulled in the early morning light as they worked through their pre-race paces.

The grandstand was crawling with workers and the backside was bustling with activity. Everything was moving with the energy that radiated from the track in waves.

Cindy stared up at the massive grandstand, the twin spires pointing up at the barely blue sky as the sun began to rise over the horizon, showering the green and brown of the track with yellow light, beginning to paint the clubhouse with brightness. The moon still hung faintly in the west.

"This is the day," she heard a voice behind her.

"Yes it is," Cindy nodded, looking back at Ashleigh as the older woman slowed Russian Winter next to Watchmaker, the bay colt snorting and arching his neck proudly, shouldering against Watchmaker.

The red colt snorted back, glancing at Russian Winter out of white ringed eyes.

"Do you want to take them around together?" Ashleigh asked, tapping Russian Winter into a trot before Cindy could answer, the bay bouncing ahead of Watchmaker with a toss of his black mane.

Watchmaker snorted and kicked into a canter, sweeping by the bay colt before Cindy could even give the command, his white-marked legs kicking up dirt as he paused to throw up a small buck in play.

"Whoa," Cindy crooned, pulling the colt back down to a walk as she waited for Ashleigh and Russian Winter to catch up, looking over her shoulder as the bay colt trotted up to them, slowing to a walk as they reached Cindy and Watchmaker.  
"He seems full of vigor," Ashleigh laughed, reaching over and patting the colt's red neck. "He may give the favorite here a run for his money."

Cindy nodded, silent. She watched Russian Winter as they walked along the outside of the track, the bay colt alert and fresh. He was indeed the favorite according to the morning line odds. He would probably stay there until post time, Cindy reasoned, keeping a light touch on Watchmaker's mouth, a small frown of concentration on her lips.

"These cameras are certainly disconcerting," Ashleigh chuckled as they walked by another television crew set up by the gauntlet, where the Derby runners would parade through on their way to the saddling paddock.

"I don't think Russian Winter has ever been near this kind of excitement," Ashleigh said, sitting back in the saddle as the bay settled next to Watchmaker.

"I wouldn't think so," Cindy agreed, watching the grandstand, knowing it would be filled completely in a few hours. Even the infield would be completely crowded. They had already set up the tents and the big screen televisions along the grassy lawn. "Nothing ever compares to Derby day," she added, running her fingers through Watchmaker's coarse mane as soon as she knew the colt was settled.

"True," Ashleigh grinned at Russian Winter, who was huffing as Sanditon, the chestnut winner of the Bay Shore Stakes, rumbled up next to them, his head craned up, and star-marked head lifted high as he galloped lightly by.

They walked around the track only once, the colts coming to the gap without ever breaking a sweat. Lucas was there to greet Cindy, his dark green eyes shining brilliantly as Watchmaker stepped off the track, his crimson coat gleaming in the rising sun, red on the horizon.

"I'll tell you this much," Lucas said as Cindy jumped off the well-made colt. "Even if he isn't the favorite for this race, he's sure going to give them a show."

Cindy laughed, leading the colt off the track as Well's Station came out of the barn, his regal bay head held high, ears pricked at the track curiously.

Ashleigh rode Russian Winter off the track, a camera trained on the bay's movements, the colt highlighted against the gray roofs of the grandstand, his wine-dark body tinted with red.

"It's certainly going to be a show," Ashleigh remarked, jumping off the bay colt, turning and giving Mike a thumbs up sign before heading back to the barns.

The day moved on faster than Cindy anticipated. Soon there was a sea of countless people moving through the gates of the grand old track, their brightly clothed bodies spreading out over the grandstand, the clubhouse, around the paddock, and congregating in the infield, tramping the green grass down to dirt trails as they set up to watch the greatest race ever run.

Cindy had two races to go through on the under card. They were both allowances, but to gain this much attention they were high class and notable, with high purses and the best pedigrees.

Cindy was riding the favorite in the first race of the day, at eleven thirty in the morning, and the stands were packed. The sky was a roar of small planes trailing huge banners and, as usual, the Good Year blimp was in attendance, faithfully droning through the sky in tight circles around the track.

Beaten Path, her bay colt for the first race, a Baffert colt of three years, was not at ease with the crowd, and came in a fighting third after putting up a royal fit in the paddock, spooked by the gathering mob.

Her second race, the third on the card, was on Perfect Sparkle, Lucas' small bay filly from Belmont. The filly easily rode out the roaring stands, standing like a rock in the paddock and striding through the tunnel and the post parade, meaning business. Cindy had never seen the filly so cool and collected, after riding her at Belmont and seeing how easily excitable the filly had been then.

Yet, today Perfect Sparkle defied her odds, sprinting to the lead in the final furlong and overtaking the leader, gunning it down the stretch as she skipped by the white rail, her beautiful bay head held high in her classic stargazer pose, defiant all the way to the finish line.

It was a good sign, if Cindy believed in signs, for the Kentucky Derby. It was also a good sign for Watchmaker, whose odds suddenly became four to one after Perfect Sparkle's race.

"Perfect!" Lucas grinned as Cindy rode the filly into the winner's circle, the small concrete slab in the side of the grandstand.

"Very funny," Cindy said, returning the older man's grin as the filly stopped for the cameras, stamping one black marked leg as the camera shutters clicked before Cindy jumped off.

"It's good for Red's odds," Lucas said, handing the filly off to her groom, the bay prancing off down the track again, heading for the backside. Cindy nodded, knowing the crowd's betting habits. As much as people tended to bet on past performances, luck and experience of the human counterparts was also important, and a trainer of a Derby runner who did well on Derby day with other horses was a bonus.

"Well," Lucas glanced at his watch as Cindy pulled the tie out of her hair, rotating her old shoulder, wishing the ache would stop. "You've got a while before coverage for the Derby even starts. Why don't you get cleaned up and come up to Skye Terrace to eat lunch?"

Cindy frowned, glancing up at the sky, watching the blimp float over like a giant silver bullet gliding gracefully through the cloudless expanse of blue.

"I think I'm up for that. I've got a few hours before NBC starts their interview with me and Ashleigh," Cindy said, turning back to Lucas. "You don't have another runner?"

"Not until the Derby," Lucas grinned, obviously proud of this accomplishment. If either Watchmaker or Well's Station won the Derby it would be his first win since Red Army in the big race, meaning tons of coverage and universal fame.

Lucas' smile got wider as he watched the people scurrying around the track, preparing it for the next race. "And in that race I've got two."

Cindy showered and changed, meeting up with Lucas and Jack at Skye Terrace, the huge dinning rooms along the fourth, fifth, and sixth levels of Churchill Downs, where the wealthy were waited on hand and foot. Only the prominent showed up there, and Cindy, as she walked through the grand dinning rooms, staring out at the track through the huge bays of windows, felt suddenly out of place as a jockey among the sea of money that made horse racing.

"Hey, Cin," Jack suddenly grabbed her arm, pulling her aside. He was standing at the bar, and Cindy had nearly walked past him in her awe. Not even Ashleigh had taken her to Skye Terrace.

"Caught in a day dream, huh?" Jack asked her, nodding out to the track.

"It's hard not to be," Cindy murmured back, staring out at the completely crowded infield.

"Well," Jack drank the last of his scotch and turned around, leading Cindy down to the Dearharts and Lucas, who were already ordering. "This is the Kentucky Derby, babe."

"So it is," Cindy found herself murmuring before Mr. Dearhart began to boom.

"Here's our rider of the hour," John Dearhart laughed loudly, getting up as Cindy approached, smiling fondly. "Nice race you had out there on that filly."

"Thank you," Cindy nodded. "She's an exceptional filly."

"Of course," Maggie smiled politely, toying with her diamond necklace nervously, glancing out at the track time after time. "The way she ran out there, she may have beaten the Kentucky Oaks winner yesterday. Seattle Sound, the Godolphin filly."

"Perhaps," Lucas laughed, watching Cindy sit down, everyone settling around the beautifully done table. The waiter took their orders, glancing with annoyance when Cindy just asked for water, refusing a meal.

"I'm too nervous," Cindy admitted, fingering the white cloth napkin in front of her.

Jack chuckled, watching Cindy and then out at the track, his dusky blue eyes flicking over the vast crowds, his face suddenly quiet.

They talked quietly over lunch, the sun steadily pushing west, and the grandstand beginning to cast a slight shadow on the crowds. They watched the next race, a graded turf stakes for older horses, and for the first time Cindy saw John Dearhart silent, his frighteningly bright blue eyes watching the horses turn for home, fighting to the finish.

As a small chestnut with a stripe passed under the finish line a head in front, he said softly, "There's something about this place on Derby day. I came here nearly forty years ago, after I had taken over the family business, and saw the 1964 Derby, when Northern Dancer won in a new record time. I watched that colt just blow past the field, and that excitement. There was nothing like watching that race with the crowds. There's that feeling…"

He trailed off, watching the honey chestnut turn, coming back to the winner's circle, the colt streaked with sweat. Cindy watched John Dearhart closely as the old man turned back from the unbelievable view before them, smiling at Cindy.

"That's the sort of moment that you know you have to be a part of at least once. I'm sure I'm going to feel it again today with this colt. It's in his blood. I just know it."

Cindy sat in the women's side of the jockey's room, staring at the crop in her hands, her long blond hair falling in a cascade of gold down her arms. She could hear Ashleigh in the bathroom, the water running softly in the background of the older woman's singing as she prepared. It was almost five o'clock, when the broadcast started over national television. The other jockeys, in the men's side, were most likely already watching the beginning of the broadcast. Instead, Cindy sat in silence, fighting the nerves that had suddenly descended upon her in the quiet moments before she had to walk out of the jockey's room and down into the paddock.

"To our newest jockey, with love," Cindy murmured, running her fingers over the old, worn crop. She sighed and stood up, turning to inspect herself in the long mirror by her duffel bag. The forest green silks were glossy under the flourescent lights, the white bars wrapping around her arms in pearly white against the darkness of the green.

Her hands were shaking as she pulled out her hair tie, reaching behind her head to pull her disorderly hair into a pony tail, yanking it through several loops before it managed to sit behind her neck in some form of order. She would have done some sort of braid, if she thought her shaking fingers could handle it.

"Are you all set?" Ashleigh asked, walking out from the bathroom in her blue and white silks, smoothing down the white pants, her hair pulled behind her head tightly.

"Sure," Cindy said, flicking the worn racing crop against her boots nervously.

"You still use that thing?" Ashleigh asked, noticing the old crop, the burned letters in the handle.

Cindy glanced down at it as she turned to grab her helmet. "Huh?" she frowned, shrugging at the crop. "It's my racing crop. It's sort of a good luck charm, I guess."

Ashleigh smiled, shrugging in return. "Well, some people wear their underwear inside out, others have lucky racing crops. I'm glad to see you still use it, though."

Cindy nodded, the overwhelming feeling of her stomach beginning to turn keeping her from saying much in response.

"Are you okay?" Ashleigh asked, coming up to Cindy's side as the younger jockey sat down again, taking a deep breath.

"Nerves," she managed to gasp, sucking in another deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I've never felt like this," she added, trying to smile at Ashleigh and failing miserably.

"Oh, Cindy," Ashleigh laughed, putting an arm around her, squeezing her shoulders. "You've been to races like this. In fact, you raced in a Derby before. There's no reason to be so nervous."

"Last time out it was different," Cindy protested, trying to stop the visible shaking in her hands. "Last time I was riding a long shot with a slim hope of getting in the top three. The expectations today are very different."

"Cindy," Ashleigh said, making the younger jockey look at her, her hazel eyes bright. "You're going to pull Watchmaker through this. That colt has the ability to run with a field of eighteen very competitive horses, and you have the ability to jockey against the best in the world. I know," Ashleigh stressed. "I practically taught you, didn't I?"

Cindy managed a sharp laugh, squeezing her eyes shut and then opening them, watching a reporter walk inside with a camera crew, a small entourage of Churchill Downs staff with them.

"Are you ready for this?" Ashleigh asked as the reporter walked up, motioning for the cameras to set up.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Cindy nodded, and she looked up at the cameras.

Over the past week Cindy had to admit that she felt something like a super star, the way the media had treated her. Cameras had been following everyone around for days as NBC put together specials on the favorites, the long shots, and the heart wrenching stories. Cindy had been at her fair share of photo shoots, being filmed and photographed, trying not to pay any attention to Jack, who watched behind the cameras, an amused as hell look on his face as Cindy tried to remain serious. She failed several times, bursting out laughing so much the director finally called it quits.

The interview wrapped up within minutes, cutting for time as the live broadcast moved on, and Cindy and Ashleigh were out of the room in a flash, pushing their way down to the paddocks.

The track was alive with people, crawling and humming with expectation as the anxious fans pressed against the paddock in the hour wait before the Kentucky Derby. Cindy paused before she entered the paddock behind Ashleigh, watching the walking ring, the eighteen horses already present, their healthy coats glittering in the afternoon sun. She spotted Watchmaker immediately, being led by his groom around the black walkway, his deep red coat shining different hues of crimson.

Cindy pushed open the gate and walked into the paddock, her dark green helmet under her arm, racing crop gripped in the same hand as she wove through the crowds, passing by the white, wooden stalls, nodding to trainers and jockeys. As she slipped up to the Whitebrook stall she stopped when she spotted a grinning Christina, giving the younger girl's hand a little squeeze as she smiled, pushing her way through.

"What's the time?" Cindy asked when she got to Lucas' stall for Well's Station, the trainer already inside, watching his two horses prance around the paddock, showing off for the crowds.

"Hey, Cin," Lucas smiled, checking his watch. "It's twenty-five after."

"Great," Cindy nodded, watching Well's Station, the vigorous bay tossing his head, his black mane waving behind him as he tested his groom, arching his thick chocolate neck. Lucas was saddling Well's Station for the Derby, as he had promised last year when the colt had won the Hollywood Futurity by three lengths, and his owners had promptly insisted on setting him to the Derby, no matter what.

"You're all set on the racing strategy right?" Lucas asked as Cindy moved to the side as horses began to stream by, all wide-eyed and snorting.

"What little there is of one," Cindy frowned, her brown eyes running over Watchmaker as the red colt pulled the groom by, the colt's white-marked head held low to the ground, his tail up like a bloody banner behind him. Cindy suddenly remembered her awe of the colt when she had first seen him in January. There had been no doubts about his ability.

"Still," Lucas frowned. "Jack will go over it again when you get to Red's stall."

Cindy nodded as Well's Station was brought into the stall, the bay colt snorting and wheeling around to face out, coming to a trembling stop to stare out at the hundreds of thousands of faces.

"I'll see you," Cindy said, touching Lucas' arm, who nodded back before Cindy made her way down the row again, nearly being run over by Townsend Grand, a huge bay, as the colt plowed into his stall, quivering and shaking his dark mane.

"Watch it, Cindy," she heard Brad behind her and she sighed, turning, surveying the dark haired older man before realizing she just didn't want to deal with him anymore.

"Please excuse my walking by, Brad," she smiled sweetly and turned back on her heel, walking to stall sixteen, glancing in on First Deputy and Command Central, the winners of the El Camino Real Derby and the Lafayette Stakes respectively. The two chestnuts looked calm in the roar of the crowds and the groups in the paddock.

Finally, she followed Watchmaker into his stall, the red colt tossing his finely shaped head and eyeing his surroundings out of white-ringed brown eyes. Cindy ducked around the corner as Watchmaker turned in his stall, looking out on the throbbing mass of people with pricked ears, his big eyes held wide.

Jack was leaning against the stall post, watching the red colt quietly before he swept his eyes to Cindy, and smiled.

Cindy grinned over at him, letting her eyes travel over his expensive, tailor-made suit before she said, "You look very professional."

Jack chuckled as Watchmaker began to fidget. "Why Cindy, is that a compliment?"

"Maybe," Cindy shrugged, glancing out at the crowded paddock before turning back and saying: "Don't let it go to your head."

Jack only laughed before setting to work, spreading out the blue Kentucky Derby blanket over Watchmaker's red back. Cindy watched him as he worked, glancing out at the throngs of people pressing against the railing, milling about. The noise they were generating created a nervous intensity around the track, making Cindy set to fidgeting, her eyes glancing between the amazingly crowded track to the red colt, standing hesitantly as Jack tightened the girth, making sure everything was set.

"Okay," Jack said, giving the colt a final pat before turning to Cindy.

"Strategy," Cindy frowned, biting her lip and chewing thoughtfully. "There isn't much of one."

"I know," Jack said, watching the horses begin to walk around the walkway again, their small saddles in place on their backs. The groom led out Watchmaker and the beautiful red colt followed after him, prancing and tossing his crimson mane.

"There's going to be a massive crush in the front," Jack frowned, his eyes glancing over the horses as they walked by. "Over half of those horses are going to go for a position just behind the pace, and Thirty Stars and Factory Line are going to get to the front before you based on post position alone."

"We're going to have to stay with the plan," Cindy muttered, her eyes following Watchmaker as he walked around, prancing behind Rawun, the big bay sweating and carrying on, jerking his head up with each step.

"Keep him on the outside," Jack nodded, agreeing. "If you angle in you're going to get caught in the middle, and the race will be lost at the first turn. Shoot for at least fourth."

"Okay then," Cindy said, watching the Dearharts approach from a conversation with the crown prince of Dubai.

"How's Watchmaker doing?" Maggie asked, wringing her hands with worry. The older woman looked like a nervous wreck and to channel her nerves she seemed to want to fiddle with anything capable of being toyed with. She stood inside the stall, looking around her like a bird, her wide brimmed blue hat sweeping back and forth.

"He's doing surprisingly well," Jack nodded, watching the crimson colt trot past, his white hooves clomping against the walkway. "Compared to some of the other colts, in any case."

Cindy nodded, watching Eyes on the Prize, the bay Lone Star Derby winner, plunge past, shaking his jet mane and rearing, nearly slamming into a cameraman.

"I don't have any doubts," John Dearhart said loudly, taking his wife's arm and patting her hand, smiling at her confidently. "This is Watchmaker's moment."

"It certainly is," Cindy mused to herself, trying to calm her nerves. Moments ago she had contemplated throwing up in the jockey's room, and now she was standing out in front of all the nation, about to ride the Santa Anita Derby winner in the greatest race in America, if not the world.

The horses were returning to their stalls as the cameras swept over the paddock again, commentators chattering loudly, and reporters dashed between stalls. Cameras halted outside Watchmaker's stall and peered in for moments before sweeping on. Reporters stopped to interview Jack and Lucas, and other owners stepped in to greet the Dearharts.

Suddenly, as Jack glanced down at his watch and then gave Cindy an unmistakable look, the call came out across the paddock.

"Riders up!"

Cindy looked back at Jack and he held up his arm. "Hold up, Cindy," he murmured, looking down the line of horses who were stepping haltingly out of their stalls, jockeys getting legs up onto their backs.

"Riders up!"

"Okay," Jack nodded as Eyes on the Prize and One Moment filed past, their jockeys busy preparing in the saddle, collecting the reins.

"Stay on the outside," Jack said, tossing Cindy up into Watchmaker's saddle. Cindy looked down as she gathered the reins, settling in the saddle. "It's going to be a crush on the rail," he said as the horses pranced past.

Cindy caught the blue and white silks of Ashleigh on Russian Winter as they moved by, the bay colt dancing and stamping his fore hooves as he went. The mob of people was getting louder, roaring in Cindy's ears as she waited.

"Outside," Cindy nodded. "No wire to wire victory today."

"Yeah," Jack chuckled. "It's going to be a knock-down-drag-out fight. And you're going to have to fight for this one, Cin."

Cindy watched Blue Dubai, Well's Station, and Townsend Grand move past, their eyes rolling at the noise, snorting and sweating in the heat of the Kentucky afternoon.

"I got you, Jack," Cindy nodded. It was her turn.

"I know," Jack nodded. "Go and kick butt, Cin."

"Will do," Cindy grinned, looking over her shoulder at him as they headed out, the red colt pausing to rear slightly on his hind legs before jumping forward, dragging the groom along with him.

Sanditon and Idle Majesty moved out behind them and that was it. Cindy swivelled in the saddle and saw Lucas walk up to Jack, the two men talking quietly, nodding as the horses began to disappear underneath the tunnel to reappear on the track, their coats glistening with sweat as they caught a look at the multitudes in the grandstand.

Cindy turned, settling herself in the saddle as they moved under the grandstand, the red colt huffing excitedly as he was handed off to the palomino out rider.

As they came out of the tunnel, the sun sliding over the colt's blood red back, Cindy stared up at the grandstand once, taking in the magnitude of it all. She could hardly believe the turn out.

After a full moment of staring up at the stands, she turned away, listening to Watchmaker as the great red colt snorted, jerking on the reins as they pranced by, making a small turn as they began the post parade.

Cindy stared straight ahead, ignoring the rumbling stands and the thousands of faces that looked down on them. Watchmaker sauntered over the tilled dirt, his head held low, neck arched, his ears flicking around excitedly as he stepped high with his white hooves.

"Easy," Cindy murmured as the red colt snorted, bounding forward a little, shaking his bloody mane. The outrider tightened his grip on the colt as Watchmaker danced away from the palomino, shoving his head over the Quarter Horse's withers.

"Never know what they're going to do on Derby day," the outrider said, cracking a smile at Cindy. "Never seen so many people in their lives, I suspect."

Cindy nodded, finding that she was too nervous to respond. Watchmaker jerked his head up and danced back to the palomino, bobbing his head as they began to canter, passing by the gate.

Cindy leaned forward for the warm up, breaking into a gallop in the far turn. Watchmaker snorted deeply, eyeing Sanditon as the other colt galloped around him, his head up, eyes ringed in white.

"Whoa," Cindy crooned to the colt, testing out her vocal cords. Watchmaker flicked his ears back, slowing as they turned, heading back to the gate.

There was a sea of horses in front of them, rising and falling as they came toward the gate. Cindy could pick out Ashleigh and Russian Winter in the massive group of hooves, beating into the dirt at a staccato pace. She looked calm and collected - like she had done this a hundred times before.

Watchmaker trotted toward the gate as though he were on a mission. His head was craned up, burgundy mane waving behind him in a slight breeze that was picking up, stirring the warm air over the track.

The crowds were getting louder as they neared the gate, and Cindy's heart was beating faster, thudding against her ribcage. Eyes On The Prize was being loaded, as well as Model T, in post ten.

The group stopped behind the gate, beginning to mill as the track announcer, Dave Johnson, began to talk over the crowds. Cindy watched the horses heading into the gate in pairs. One Moment headed into post two, and Blue Dubai, in post eleven. Blue Dubai kicked out, scattering the assistants before they closed the back doors, going on to the rest of the horses. Factory Line and Well's Station moved into line, followed by Countdown and Townsend Grand. Thirty Stars and First Deputy next as an assistant came to take Watchmaker's bridle, the outrider wishing Cindy luck as he wheeled around and off the track. Ashleigh and Russian Winter were next, the bay heading forward easily, his head up, nostrils delicately flared. Before the colt stepped into the gate, Ashleigh turned around, and smiled at Cindy, raising her crop to her helmet in a silent salute. Cindy nodded back, giving Ashleigh a small smile before Russian Winter was closed inside the gate. It was Cindy's turn now.

Watchmaker huffed as the assistant led him forward. He lowered his head and flicked his ears anxiously at the gate, pausing before the assistant led him inside, the chestnut colt walking easily into the gate as the assistant jumped up on the little ledge beside his head, keeping the colt still. Cindy glanced down at the colt before she pulled the goggles over her eyes and wove her fingers into the colt's red mane. She could hear the horses milling in the gate. Command Central was snorting and shaking his head, banging quietly in the gate as Sanditon loaded, followed closely by Idle Majesty.

There was a half second as Cindy looked forward, feeling the nervous energy in Watchmaker as the stands suddenly went silent, the whole nation watching the starting gate. And then, suddenly, the bell shrilled out over the gate and the doors banged open.

Watchmaker roared; digging in and plunging, his head beautifully arched as Cindy urged him forward. The colt broke fast. He was nearly airborne before he began to gallop, flying down the middle of the track as the field moved in, Factory Line and Thirty Stars grabbing the lead at the front of the pack. Cindy glanced to her inside and moved the colt in, finding a spot on the outside of the pack as Sanditon and Idle Majesty dropped back.

The blood red colt galloped slowly on the outside as Factory Line led the way, Thirty Stars just behind in second. On Cindy's inside was a solid wall of five horses, and she settled Watchmaker next to Rawun, hanging back in seventh.

It was immediately obvious that Watchmaker was confused. Cindy felt the colt jerk on the reins as they plowed past the grandstand for the first time. His mind was set on being in front, and Cindy fought the colt, keeping him on the outside, plastered to Rawun's side as they churned down the track.

She kept glancing inward, watching the huge crush of ten horses vying for a position behind the leaders, the jockeys yelling at their mounts and to each other. Rawun's giant body heaved next to Watchmaker, his big bay head pulled back as his jockey attempted to check the colt, keeping him from running over Townsend Grand, who was holding position in fourth.

The pace was slow as they galloped into the turn, passing the quarter mile marker. Cindy couldn't tell who was where on the inside. She didn't dare look behind her now. With Rawun fighting hard on her inside, and Watchmaker desperately pleading for more rein, she had her hands full keeping the red colt out of the fray.

Factory Line plodded through the turn. Cindy had known this would happen. With Factory Line setting slow fractions, the rest of the horses were piled up in front, not daring to move past and still trying to find a good spot among the crush of their bodies.

Watchmaker ran on, bellowing thick snorts with each stride. Cindy jumped when she felt Rawun brush against them, his head finally lowering, pressed against Cindy's side. Watchmaker pulled hard on the reins, moving up the pack as they poured into the backstretch, Thirty Stars taking the lead from Factory Line as they approached the half mile marker.

Cindy checked Watchmaker softly, feeling the colt's bottled fury at being kept behind the pace. He was a ball of nervous energy as Thirty Stars led the way to the turn, the group inside finally beginning to break apart, their horses exhausted from the fight to find a position. Watchmaker was still kicking, beginning to move away from Rawun as the field rolled into the second turn.

The atmosphere changed in a split second. Jockeys calling to their horses to settle twenty seconds ago were now urging them, their fingers twitching on the reins. The leaders were tiring, the crowds were roaring, and Cindy unconsciously gathered Watchmaker in preparation for the final drive.

Rawun was finished, and Watchmaker put him behind easily as they sailed to the quarter pole. The horses who had no prayer of finishing well were laboring, and Cindy was flying past them, the crop twirling up in her fingers as she lifted it and brought it down on Watchmaker's hind quarters. The colt bounded forward, ripping the reins through Cindy's loosened grip as he put away Townsend Grand and hurtled past the rapidly tiring Factor Line.

Cindy crouched against the colt's neck, flicking the whip past his eye and then bringing it lightly down again on his body, urging him forward as she heard and felt a rapidly approaching assault from behind. She didn't need to glance behind her to know who it was. Cindy didn't dare take her eyes off the finish line, even when the flash of blue and white silks caught her eye. Russian Winter was there, breathing down their neck.

They passed Thirty Stars as one, the colts drawing alongside each other like galleons preparing for battle. All Cindy could do was encourage her mount and hope for the wire. She knew Ashleigh could only be thinking the same thing. Russian Winter stretched out as Watchmaker gathered. The wire loomed, they surged, and then it was over.

The noise was deafening. Cindy stood up in the stirrups, looking up at the grandstand, and then at Ashleigh, who was smiling.

"Well," she said with a shrug. "I think congratulations are in order."

"You didn't see," Cindy said, looking over at her as the horses rolled into a canter, huffing and slowing by themselves. She couldn't have seen. They were too close at the end to know with any certainty.

"I just know," Ashleigh said, then reached out and patted Cindy on the back. "Good job, Cin."

Russian Winter broke into a trot and Ashleigh turned away, leaving Cindy gaping after her. Her stomach was in knots, her mouth dry. It occurred to her that she was more nervous now than she was at the beginning of the race. Watchmaker shortened his stride and fell back into a trot and then an ambling walk, shaking his mane and finally coming to a puzzled halt as Cindy sat immobile in the saddle.

Suddenly a new roar went up in the stands. An outrider was coming out to collect them, the white horse cantering over the harrowed dirt, red roses woven through its mane. Finally, it all crashed over Cindy like a tidal wave and she wrapped an arm around Watchmaker's sweaty, dirt-streaked neck, pressing her check against his mane.

"You are amazing," she whispered to the colt, and then straightened, patting him soundly on the shoulder. Watchmaker snorted and squealed at the outrider's horse, shaking his head and dancing for effect. They were going to the winner's circle, and Cindy could have floated the entire way.


	22. Not A Tragedy

22.

"Not a Tragedy"

Cindy sat on the concrete picnic table in the backside of the track, watching the sun setting in a fury of gold and red between the twin spires of Churchill Downs. It was an amazing sight, watching the light spill over the track, brilliantly splashing color over the famous dirt field and the pagoda where Watchmaker had stood victorious in the winner's circle, wreathed in red roses and slick with sweat.

It was, Cindy had realized then, the proudest moment of her career. When Mr. Dearhart had led that colt into the crowds, surrounded by cameras and flashing bulbs, that had been her peak -- the moment that she would never again be able to reach. In a way, it saddened her, and yet it was all so brilliant.

"Hey," she heard Jack behind her, walking up to the picnic table. Cindy turned and grinned over at him, eyeing the six-pack of beer in his left hand. "Want one?"

"Yes," Cindy nodded, taking the beer he ripped off the plastic rings and handed to her. She daintily popped the lid of the can and made a little face, then took a sip.

"Never liked beer all that much," Cindy frowned at the can, holding it in front of her with two hands.

"That's a shame," Jack chuckled, jumping up beside her on the picnic table. "Then again I always figured you to be a hard liquor gal."

Cindy rolled her eyes playfully and sighed, watching the twin spires silhouetted against the fiery crash of the sun over the horizon. She took another sip of the beer, bathing in the warm spring night, feeling Jack next to her.

"Is Watchmaker settled in?" Cindy asked, glancing over at Jack. He had changed long ago from his suit and tie, appearing now in only beat up jeans and a t-shirt, as always. His hair was back to its wild appearance as Jack ran his fingers through it, nodding.

"He's dead asleep," Jack replied, looking back at the barn. "He's going to be sore as hell tomorrow."

Cindy nodded, putting the beer down on the bench by her feet.

"Jack," she said, staring at the Grandstand from across the track.

"Yeah?" he asked, taking a gulp of his beer.

"We won the Kentucky Derby," Cindy smiled, watching the sun disappear behind the stands.

Jack started to laugh, nodding his head. "Yeah, we did."

"And I am so tired," Cindy groaned, leaning back on the face of the table, lying down, her golden hair spilling around her head.

Jack looked back at her, his eyes dark in the dimming light.

"Has Ben talked to you lately?" Jack asked softly, keeping his gaze trained on Cindy's face.

She frowned instantly. Yes, Ben had sought her out after the race, and she had given him her answer.

"I told him no," Cindy said, watching the twilight and the stars just beginning to peak out of the sky.

"Why's that?" Jack asked, bringing the beer can to his mouth, taking a large gulp.

"I just," Cindy shrugged. "I'm too connected to things in New York, I guess. And then there's the fact that working for Ben would be extremely awkward, and I still wouldn't be riding. I realized that the other day. Ben never wanted me to ride for him, and that's what I really want to do."

Cindy laughed suddenly, remembering her secret promise to herself when she had left Dubai. She had beaten one of the sheik's horses, and it had been in the Kentucky Derby. And she knew this time the horse hadn't won in spite of her. She couldn't image the look on Ben's father's face when Watchmaker and Russian Winter had crossed the finish line fighting for first.

Jack was silent for a moment, considering Cindy. The silence was almost too much for her and she smiled, stretching, trying to find something to say.

"God, I'm exhausted," she said, barely stifling a yawn. She closed her eyes, smiling up at the sky. "Aren't you tired?"

"Not exactly," Jack responded. She could hear the click of his beer can being put down on the concrete bench before a small weight was deposited on her stomach. "I was just wondering if this might perk you up."

Cindy frowned, confused, and then opened her eyes.

"Oh my God," Cindy whispered, sitting bolt upright, catching the small velvet box in her hands before it tumbled off her body. She looked over at Jack, her honey brown eyes held wide as he reached over, opening the box for her.

"Jack," she whispered, bringing a hand to cover her gaping mouth when she saw the ring inside. It was only a delicate gold circle, with a modest diamond glittering on top, glinting as the fiery light caught in the multitudes of cuts in the stone. She pulled her shaking hand from her mouth and slowly pulled the small ring from the plush insides of the box, then looked back at Jack.

"Is this what I think it is?" Cindy asked, her voice soft and unsure, keeping her eyes trained on him.

"It is," Jack replied, watching her closely.

"When did you get this?" Cindy asked, still getting over the shock.

"About a week ago," Jack said, finally letting his characteristic smile sweep over his face. "After you got in to Louisville."

Cindy just looked at him and the back down at the ring, trying to find the right words to say. She had never been proposed to before, and she was determined to get things right.

"So Cindy," Jack said, clearing his throat. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty nervous right now."

"Oh!" Cindy jumped, giving him an apologetic smile. "Of…"

She stopped herself, suddenly smiling wide. "You haven't even asked me yet," she accused, pointing at him.

"That's even necessary at this point?" Jack laughed, eyeing her.

"Yes, it is too necessary," Cindy cried, standing up and putting the ring in the box, handing it to him. "Now," she moved a few steps away from the bench, turning around to face him, grinning at his expression. "You have to propose on your knees, or I can't say yes."

"Is that so?" Jack asked, cocking an eyebrow at her in amusement.

"Yeah, that is so," Cindy challenged, crossing her arms and giving him a defiant stare.

"It's a good thing I love you," Jack chuckled, jumping off the bench and walking up to her, dropping to his knees in the gravel before Cindy.

Cindy grinned as she looked down at him, something she rarely had the chance to do. He opened the box, the ring sparkling in the little light that was left. She could feel her heart racing as she watched him, unable to stop grinning like a fool.

"Cynthia Miranda McLean," he began, making Cindy's grin even wider, if that were possible. "Will you marry me?"

Cindy's heart was in her throat and she nodded her head vigorously, managing to say yes as he slipped the small ring over her left ring finger. She stared at the ring as he stood up to his full height, towering over Cindy, tipping her head up to kiss her.

"You sure this isn't too sudden?" Cindy asked after she broke the kiss, smiling playfully

He groaned and rolled his eyes. "Cindy," he laughed, shoving the empty ring box back in his pocket. "Eight years isn't long enough for you?"

"Ah," Cindy grinned, pointing a finger into his chest. "You do have a point."

"As always," he said, pulling her up to him and picking her up, heading toward the car.

Things had calmed down dramatically by the next morning. In fact, the track looked empty compared to its overflowing capacity the day before, and the backside seemed sluggish without the massive crush of anxiety whipping through it. It seemed as though every day after the Kentucky Derby would seem slower than normal without nerves running high.

Cindy sat tall in Watchmaker's saddle before the sunrise, rubbing her thumb against the warm gold of the ring on her finger, smiling at nothing in particular.

"Congratulations, Cindy," Ashleigh smiled as she rode by with Russian Winter, the bay colt coming off the track in high spirits after his laid back walk.

"Thanks, Ash," Cindy said, her smile turning into a wide grin.

"I wanted to tell you that I'd love it if you had your wedding at Whitebrook," Ashleigh said, stopping the bay colt with a light tug on the reins. "Sammy had hers there, and so did I."

Cindy nodded her head, the grin widening. "I'd love to," she said, reaching over and patting Russian Winter's neck. "But we still haven't set a date, yet."

"Get back to me," Ashleigh laughed, turning Russ around and heading toward the gap. "It's not every day that Whitebrook sees a wedding!"

Cindy chuckled to herself and moved Watchmaker out, the red colt stepping high, mane and tail flicking behind him with the light breeze. Her orders were once around the track at nothing over a walk. After a mile and a quarter race, the colt was physically strained. Watchmaker had never run so far in his life, and if Lucas had the Belmont in mind they were going to have to keep tight tabs on his workouts.

Watchmaker snorted as Cindy kept him close to the outside rail, and far away from the other horses working on the inside. The colt pulled on the reins, tossing his head merrily as Cindy kept him in hand, feeling the strength of the colt underneath her. Suddenly, Watchmaker danced away from the rail, shaking his head and kicking out both hind legs, jumping forward.

"Whoa," Cindy murmured, forcing the colt back into a controlled walk. Watchmaker snorted, prancing down the tilled track. The red colt was in high spirits in the morning, eyeing the horses on the inside, jumping and breaking into a trot, shying away from the rail in play, as though he were testing Cindy.

"Stop," Cindy admonished, pulling back, feeling the colt push back in response, the tension coiling in her arms as she attempted to control the eager colt.

Ever since entering the racing circuit Cindy had noticed the subtle changes in the colt's attitude. He was much more high strung than he had been in January, and his manners on the track were becoming more difficult to manage. Cindy set her mouth in a frown of concentration and kept the colt's speed in check. Watchmaker may be worked up, but Cindy could still handle him like the pro she was.

Suddenly a bay horse galloped by next to Watchmaker, almost plunging into the red colt's space as the rider hauled back on the reins. The bay cut in front of the red colt, careening across the track, coming within inches of slamming into the outside rail before lunging back in, losing his footing in the loose dirt and going down, throwing his rider over his head.

Watchmaker paused for just a second, and then spooked, shying as the bay colt lashed at the ground, trying to untangle its legs and push itself back up directly in front of the red colt. Cindy's eyes widened in horror as she attempted to stay in the saddle and calm the colt, but she could see that stopping Watchmaker wasn't an option.

The red colt plunged across the track, barreling away from the fallen horse. Cindy hauled back on the reins, watching with increasing panic as the inside rail got closer and closer. Watchmaker ran blindly toward it, the squeals from the downed horse and the yelling voices of people pushing him forward.

"No!" Cindy screamed, feeling the colt's body shudder just before he ran straight into the plastic rail, the white tubes falling apart and clattering around the colt's legs. Watchmaker rose and tumbled, stumbling over the fallen rail, throwing Cindy into the inner turf track.

In a quick flash, Cindy was airborne, and then she was slamming into the grass, her shoulder and head taking most of the blow.

Pain shot through her instantly as she tumbled on the grass from the force of the fall, coming to a stop on her back, her head hitting the turf hard as she saw Watchmaker thrashing on the outside track, screaming, his shimmering red body covered with a film of dirt as he dug his head into the ground and tried to push himself up, terrified.

She could vaguely hear people shouting near her, and she could hear the rapid beat of footfalls as Watchmaker began to stop struggling and blackness slid over her eyes.

She didn't know when she woke, but she was very aware of the stabbing pain in her shoulder and the throbbing behind her forehead. Tentatively she did a mental check of her body, feeling her legs, wiggling her toes slowly, moving up her body to her arms, feeling her fingers. Then she felt a hand closing around her's, small and delicate like her own.

Slowly, Cindy opened her eyes, blinking rapidly at the strange fluorescent lights in the hospital room. There was a woman sitting next to her, a concerned smile on her face, as though she was unsure of whether or not to be happy.

"Cindy?" the woman asked, and Cindy shook her head, groaning at the implications of moving too quickly.

Eventually, the woman came into focus and Cindy saw Ashleigh before her, sitting close to the bed with her hands clutched over Cindy's fingers.

"Ash?" Cindy asked, licking her lips. "God, where am I?

"You're at the local regional hospital," Ashleigh began, sitting closer. "They brought you here just after the accident."

"The accident," Cindy murmured, remembering suddenly as she and Watchmaker had gone crashing through the inner rail. "God, the accident. What happened, Ashleigh?"

Ashleigh reached over and smoothed back Cindy's long blond hair. "Jack and Lucas are right outside. They can tell you if you want."

"No," Cindy frowned, her voice barely a whisper. "You're here now. What happened?"

"Watchmaker spooked and went through the inner rail of the track," Ashleigh said softly, pressing on Cindy's fingers. "You have a concussion and you severely bruised your shoulder. It could have been much worse, Cindy. Your helmet took most of the blow, but it was crushed where you hit the ground."

"God," Cindy muttered, raising her good arm up to her eyes, afraid to ask about Watchmaker. She could feel the tears coming already. "What about…"

"He's okay," Ashleigh said, anticipating Cindy's question. "He fractured his cannon bone, but nothing more serious than that. He'll be out of training for a while. Lucas and the Dearharts are considering retirement."

"No," Cindy groaned, shutting her eyes tightly. The pain in her arm and behind her forehead was getting worse. "It was just like with Joy," she mumbled quietly, remembering the filly's sudden death. She had been galloping easily along the rail at Belmont, skipping into her breeze as smooth as ever before a loud crack echoed through the air and she was down, tumbling along the rail, breaking the white plastic apart as Cindy went flying through the air.

Ashleigh shushed Cindy, reaching over and wiping a silent tear from her face. "No, honey. Watchmaker is going to be fine. Joy was an accident. Unfortunately, it happens all the time."

But Cindy was in tears, partly from the pain and partly from the fact that Watchmaker was hurt, just like Joy had been hurt so many years ago.

"Honey," Ashleigh crooned. "Everything is okay. Watchmaker is going to heal. I know the pain is horrible right now, but the doctor couldn't give you the regular dose of painkillers."

Cindy was beginning to sob, trying in vain to push away the tears as Ashleigh comforted her, standing up from her chair to give Cindy a soft hug.

"It's going to be okay," Ashleigh murmured into Cindy's hair as the younger woman attempted to stifle her sobs. "It's okay. You should have told everyone, but it's going to be okay."

Cindy could barely comprehend Ashleigh's words as the older woman's rocking began to sooth her, and slowly the tears became less frequent, leaving Cindy with tear-stained eyes and wet cheeks.

"Ms. McLean?" a deep voice drifted through the room, accompanied by the sound of a door swinging open. Cindy glanced up and saw who she presumed was her doctor, who was striding through the room toward her bed. "I'm Dr. Carter."

"Hello," Cindy managed, trying to sit up in bed, wincing from the pain that shot up her arm.

"How are you feeling?" Dr. Carter asked, setting down the chart and walking up to Cindy's bed, holding her head still as he inspected her eyes.

"Like I just flew head over heels off a horse," Cindy said, wincing again as she tried to move your arm.

"You are extremely lucky, Ms. McLean," the doctor stated simply, nodding in satisfaction as he went back to his chart, examining a few things and finally writing something down with his ball point pen.

"You have a mild concussion and your shoulder," he paused and looked at the chart with a frown. "Your shoulder sustained a serious bone bruise over an existing injury, but the bone itself is not broken."

"Nothing fractured?" Cindy asked, astonished that she had come out of the fall so lucky. She had expected to wake up in traction for several days.

"Not that we can see," Dr. Carter said, sighing. "The bruise should heal on its own after a few weeks. We were, of course, most concerned for the fetus, but luckily there was no serious stress or ruptures to the uterine wall…"

"Wait," Cindy held up her good arm, waving her hand slightly, feeling another wave of nausea as the pain thudded through her head. She swallowed it back and asked clearly, "What?"

Ashleigh frowned, confused. "You mean that you don't know?"

"Don't know what?" Cindy asked, getting frustrated

"Ms. McLean," Dr. Carter said, regarding her with some muted astonishment. "You're pregnant."

"Excuse me?" Cindy asked, her voice rising and a sense of panic spiking in her stomach, making her nearly want to hurl.

"Almost a month," the doctor stated. "Which is why the scope of this injury could have been so much more serious."

Cindy sat quietly, dumbfounded. "You're telling me that I'm nearly one month pregnant," Cindy finally said, trying to come to grips with the situation. "I think I would have known about that. There wasn't anything. I didn't even have morning sickness."

"That usually occurs a few weeks into the pregnancy," Dr. Carter said, smiling at her now. "You'll be feeling the effects in due time."

"Oh, Christ," Cindy mumbled, leaning back in her bed, fighting the urge to throw up. She couldn't be pregnant. She just couldn't be. The doctor, as kindly as he seemed, must have the wrong person, or the wrong chart.

"There's just no way," Cindy found herself saying. "I've been on birth control since I was nineteen to lessen the…"

She stopped, realizing that it wasn't any excuse.

"It's only ninety-nine percent effective," Ashleigh said quietly, never letting go of Cindy's hand.

"That always seemed like such a high number," Cindy muttered to herself, closing her eyes again.

"I suggest that you go see your doctor when you get home, Ms. McLean," Dr. Carter advised. "We'll be keeping you here for the next two days for observation, in case something may go wrong with the pregnancy, but after that you are free to go."

"Thank you," she said absently as the doctor left, his white coat swinging after him as he closed the door.

They sat in silence for a moment until Ashleigh cleared her throat. "I'll go get Jack. He's been wanting to see you for the past hour or so, but they wouldn't allow more than one person in at a time."

"No," Cindy said suddenly, tightening her grip on Ashleigh's hand. "Please stay for a moment."

Ashleigh nodded silently and settled in the seat next to Cindy's bed, leaning forward to brush away another tear that began to slip down Cindy's cheek.

"God, how is this fair?" Cindy groaned, staring up at the ceiling.

"Cindy, this isn't the end of the world," Ashleigh laughed softly, patting her hand. "You're going to be a wonderful mother, and Jack…"

"Ashleigh," Cindy groaned, raking her fingers through her hair. "I don't know the first thing about this. Jack and I were signing on to get married, not suddenly have a baby."

"Cindy," Ashleigh locked her hazel eyes on Cindy's brown ones, reaching over and swiping another fresh tear from her cheek. "Please calm down, hon."

"I can't," Cindy breathed, swallowing another sob. "I just don't know what to do."

"Cindy," Ashleigh said, suddenly firm, standing up and leaning over Cindy, placing a light kiss on the younger woman's forehead. "This is a good thing, Cin. I want you to come back to Whitebrook. You won't be able to ride until the baby's born, you'll want something to do, and we could use a few extra people around. We can all be a family again."

"Ashleigh," Cindy sighed, calming, wiping at her face with her good hand. "I don't know about that. What would Jack and I do for you? Where would we stay?"

"I told you we've expanded considerably since you left," Ashleigh smiled. "Ian is handling a lot being trainer of it all. I was hoping Jack could take on some of the load with the younger horses. Plus, I need help with the yearlings. There are tons of them this year and I desperately need a hand to get them all started on the track. You guys can stay in Charlie and Len's old cottage. It's been vacant for a few years ever since Len moved out to Florida to be with his daughter."

Cindy frowned, looked down at her hands.

"You want me to stay?" Cindy asked, still frowning. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Ashleigh nodded, sitting back down, looking up at Cindy. "So, what do you say?"


	23. Epilogue: Emily

23.

"Emily"

Cindy stood quietly in the window of the large farmhouse, watching the snow pour down over the farm, the flakes floating down to the ground in tiny bursts of flame as the setting sun dipped below the horizon. The days were short in the cold of the January winter, and Cindy was already tired, finding her eyes fluttering shut and jerking them open.

"Tired?" Samantha asked from the doorway, grinning as Cindy turned around. Instantly Cindy smiled, watching her sister walk up to her, the tiny bundle in her arms.

"Not anymore," Cindy grinned, looking down at the very wide, inquisitive blue eyes of the baby Samantha held in her arms. "She's so beautiful, Sammy."

Samantha nodded, letting Cindy scoop the baby into her arms. "It's amazing what nine months of discomfort and twelve hours of anguish can result in," she laughed, pushing back her mane of red curls from her face. "Now I have some idea of what Shining went through each year."

Cindy laughed, smiling down at the baby she held in her arms. Samantha had gone into labor on December Twenty-Seventh, and had given birth to a girl with soft red hair and crystal blue eyes on December Twenty-Eighth. She had been named Grace, after Samantha's grandmother.

"Blue eyed girl," Cindy murmured, putting the baby back into Sammy's arms.

"Are you two going to come eat?" Ashleigh called from the kitchen, sticking her head into the living room. "Dinner is almost ready."

"I'm famished," Cindy rose her hand, laughing.

"We're coming," Samantha nodded. "As if you could tear the men away from their precious football."

Ashleigh made a show of rolling her eyes and stepped back to the kitchen, Samantha and Cindy following. Beth was working over the counter, putting finishing touches on the ham, and Christina and Melanie were busy pouring glasses of water and distributing them around the long dinner table. Kevin and Parker were sitting together, their eyes focused on the screen of the television as the Packers got a first down against the Ravens, pushing slowly toward a touchdown.

"Guys!" Ashleigh called from the kitchen. "I swear to God I will hide the remote all day tomorrow if you don't turn off that television now."

"You think she's bluffing?" Jack asked Tor, who laughed deeply and shrugged.

"I don't live here," he answered. "I'm willing to call her on it."

"I'm not," Mike shook his head. "Sadly, she's done it before."

Ian laughed and turned off the television as both Jack and Tor threw incredulous looks over at Mike, who shrugged, grabbed his beer, and headed for the kitchen.

The group slowly made their way into the dining room, setting out the masses of food. Cindy put down the green bean casserole and stepped back, looking over the beautiful table. Dinners at Whitebrook were always a huge event, and since moving down to Kentucky in June she had been through quite a lot, including the insanity of the Christmas dinner that not only included all the people at Whitebrook, but also Ashleigh's parents, Rory and his wife Julie, and Caroline and her husband Justin.

Suddenly, she jumped when Jack pinched her lightly in the side, making her whirl around.

"Jack, I don't know why I still fall for that," she groaned, throwing him a look.

"Truthfully," he answered, pointing her to her chair. "I don't know why you do either."

Christina eyed them and giggled, plopping herself in a chair next to Melanie and Parker. Cindy smiled and sat down, lowering her body thankfully to the chair. During her pregnancy Cindy hadn't gained much weight since she had wanted to be out on the racing circuits again soon after the baby was born, but the difference was still dramatic, and Cindy was still having a hard time getting used to it, even as her due date was rapidly approaching.

The dinner moved by quickly and Cindy was stuffed by the time they got the table cleared and the dishes in the dishwasher. Ashleigh battled the men away from the television, defending the quiet choral music as they settled in the family room, playing games through the night.

It was January second when Cindy and Jack started to make their way back to their cottage, saying goodbye to Sammy and Tor as they got in their car to head back to Whisperwood. Cindy huddled in her wool coat as they walked through the snow, feeling the heavy flakes slap against her face and cling to her eyelashes as she and Jack walked through the yard of their cottage, the keys jangling in Jack's hand.

Two cats were waiting for them when Jack opened the door, the Christmas wreath jangling against the heavy wood. Cindy smiled down at them and picked up the calico, pausing to run a hand through the black and white fur of the other. They were both decedents of Whitebrook's original barn cat, Sidney, and Climber even carried his markings.

"Don't, Stella," Cindy murmured, pulling the calico's claws out of her mohair scarf, setting the cat down on the sofa as she pulled off her coat.

"Late night," Jack said behind Cindy, wrapping an arm around her. "You tired?"

"Uh-huh," Cindy smiled back, leaning her head back against his shoulder, thinking about the day yet to come. Ashleigh and she had been working with Whitebrook's yearlings, and had finally culled out a group ready to go to auction in less than a week. Now there was a new group waiting for them, wide eyed and young.

They had moved from New York in mid June, after Russian Winter had run away with the Belmont Stakes, beating In Reason, the Preakness winner, by nearly seven lengths. Russian Winter had gone on to win the Haskell and the Travers, but had come in second to Well's Station in the Classic at Saratoga. Ian was considering California for the beginning of the colt's four-year-old season.

Cindy rubbed her thumb over the comforting weight of her gold wedding band, remembering the hot July wedding. It had been a huge event in the middle of Whitebrook with tents and white flowers. Heather had insisted on being the photographer and Max brought his bride, Katrina, and had smiled.

The year moved quickly, even without rides and mounts. The yearlings had kept Cindy plenty busy, and Jack had his hands full with a great string of two-year-olds. His star, Act Defiant, had come in second in the Breeders' Cup Juvenile, and had recently blown away competition in the Hollywood Futurity, becoming something of a favorite for the Kentucky Derby. It was more than he had ever hoped for.

"Let's get you to bed," Jack said, running a hand through Cindy's now shoulder length hair - she had cut it when she came to Whitebrook.

The last thing Cindy remembered before her eyes fluttered shut was being picked up and carried up the stairs, her head nestled against Jack's neck.

The next morning, Cindy woke up to an empty bed and a ton of snow on the ground. The trees were bent down with the weight of the heavy white stuff, and the paddocks were vast carpets of snow. The sun was just barely rising over the low Kentucky hills, the soft yellow light glistening over the white blanket, reflecting sharply.

She took a quick shower and dressed warmly, pulling on her new red sweater and barn jeans, heavy wool socks and her boots. She ate a healthy breakfast - one for her and one for the baby - and headed out the door, swinging her barn coat over her shoulders and letting the cats out with her. Jack was most likely already down in the training barns with Ian, looking over the horses. The farm was exceedingly lucky this year. With two horses, Star and Act Defiant, heading toward the Derby, and Perfect Image, a new rambunctious filly with beautiful bloodlines, just beginning to show what she could do, Whitebrook was loading big guns for the classic races.

Instead of heading out to the new weanling and yearling barn, Cindy took a left, walking up into the stud barn, slipping quietly into the dim lights of the warm stable. Horse heads popped up to survey her as she walked by, their sleek coats glowing in the early morning light that spilled in rays through the barred windows.

She walked down the row of beautiful studs. Jazzman, Indigo, Mr. Wonderful, Matchless, Zero's Flight, and Limitless Time. The huge black Warrior, and the lithe bay Honor and Majesty. Then the stoic Pride and Cindy's baby -- Glory. The beautiful gray grunted at her as she kissed the top of his nose, rubbing his ears, only to be pushed by another insistent gray head that belonged to King.

"Hey, boy," Cindy smiled, running her other hand down the young gray stallion's forehead. King snorted and stamped his foot hard against the soft bedding, tossing his head and eyeing her wickedly.

"None of that," Cindy crooned, bringing his head back down. It was a new breeding season, and King had a full book and a stud fee of eight grand. It was modest, Cindy knew, but when his children began to streak around the track King's price would increase slowly.

Glory grunted, shoving Cindy back on the other side. She laughed, going back to the old gray, who was already a proven sire.

"Be nice," Cindy admonished, running her fingers through his rainbow forelock, giving him another kiss before moving down the row of stallions, stopping outside the stall of a familiar chestnut.

Watchmaker stuck his head over the stall door, nickering deeply in the base of his throat. Cindy laughed and ran her hands over the colt's nose, watching him lip at her fingers, eyeing her carefully.

The Dearharts had opted for retirement as the colt had been in surgery to repair his broken foreleg. He simply meant too much and was too valuable to risk him on the track again. Lucas had been sad, but relieved by their decision. Watchmaker was sent back to his birthplace, Whitebrook, and stood at stud for 35,000 dollars.

"Hey," Cindy crooned, running her fingers over the colt's white stripe, following its crooked path. Watchmaker huffed and pushed his nose into Cindy's hands, nudging her swollen stomach gently.

The thing that most relieved Cindy was that the Dearharts did not blame her for the colt's injury, and had sent two more high-class horses to Lucas with Triple Crown hopes, wanting Cindy to ride for them.

Cindy left the red colt after a few minutes, giving King and Glory kisses before heading up to the mare's barn, where Ashleigh was standing in the aisle, looking in on Wonder's Lady.

"Hey, Cindy," Ashleigh greeted, looking up quickly and back down, surveying the chestnut daughter of the late great race mare. Lady had been bred to City of Seattle, one of the last great colts by Seattle Slew. So far the mare was scheduled to give birth in late February, but Lady had been having problems, going into labor early and nearly losing the foal. So far attempts to stop labor had worked, and Lady was doing well.

"How's Lady doing?" Cindy asked, walking up to the beautiful ten-year-old mare, reaching over and rubbing Lady's white star on her forehead.

"Great," Ashleigh answered, smiling and giving the chestnut a pat before moving on to Res Mira, another Wonder baby in foal to Unbridled's Way. "How are you?" Ashleigh asked, smiling over at Cindy. "You're reaching your due date. Getting nervous?"

"Unbelievably," Cindy answered. Truthfully, she was scared to death. She would have opted for a cesarean if she weren't afraid of that. The whole event made her nervous, and after seeing Ashleigh's ordeal it made the nervousness worse.

"Well," Ashleigh chuckled. "At least you have time to get nervous. I didn't have that luxury."

They walked up to Townsend Queen, a Townsend Princess filly in foal to Glory. Cindy rested a hand on the mare's dark bay forehead and nodded, remembering well the tragic events of Christina's birth.

"I know," Cindy nodded, watching Ashleigh slip into Queenie's stall, running her expert hands over the mare's body. "It frightens me to think about it."

"You'll be fine," Ashleigh said, looking up with a smile. "We'll all be there for you. Christina already volunteered to be the ice chip delivery girl."

Cindy laughed, shaking her head. "I don't know what I would've done if Jack and I hadn't come here. You all have been so great the past eight months."

"Hey," Ashleigh said, stepping out of Queenie's stall and giving Cindy a little hug. "We've been waiting for you for a long time, Cindy. It's great to have you back."

"Seriously?" Cindy laughed, remembering her old arguments with Ashleigh that seemed to have been forgotten, banished away from everyone's minds.

"Absolutely," Ashleigh insisted, nodding her head firmly. "It wasn't the same without you around."

Cindy began to say something, but stopped with her mouth open, her eyes widening.

"Cindy?" Ashleigh asked, turning back to the younger woman, stopping her check on the mares. "Are you okay?"

"There was something," Cindy managed, holding completely still. "I can't really describe it, but is was small."

"A contraction?" Ashleigh asked quickly. "Are you sure?"

Cindy nodded her head, refusing to move, her senses tuned to her body.

"It's not a false alarm?"

Cindy shook her head. She had been in and out of the hospital twice already due to false contractions, but this time it was different. This time she was sure she had felt something. "I don't think so this time."

"Okay," Ashleigh said firmly, grabbing Cindy's shaking hand for support and squeezing hard. "Let's go get Jack."

One part of Cindy was sure she was going to die. The other part of her was a screaming fit about ready to lunge at the doctor and physically force him to give her an epidural, even though he insisted that the contractions were too close together to administer one and Cindy was afraid of the massive needle anyway. Just seconds after they had gotten to the hospital Cindy's water broke, and after that the contractions started, leaving Cindy's idea of a painless birth in the dust.

She was, according to the doctor, only a few pushes away from ending the torment, but that never seemed to be the case and she found herself wondering amongst the pushes and the breathing if her definition of a few was different than her doctor's.

Jack was next to her, and her entire family was gathered outside waiting. Cindy, of course, was screaming, feeling herself nearly splitting through the center as another contraction wracked through her body, sending her into a shivering mess.

She found herself cursing Jack more than she would like, and Jack took it well, cheerfully encouraging her from the sidelines.

"I really hate you," Cindy groaned through gritted teeth, feeling Jack's hand on her forehead as he smoothed back a stray clump of blond hair. "I so hate you."

"I know," Jack replied, wincing as Cindy's hand clamped down on his fingers as another contraction swept through. When she loosened slightly, he added: "Just tap that hatred, Cin."

"Shut up," Cindy cried as another contraction ripped through, and she felt herself breaking, followed by a strange pause in the pain, and backed up by a shrill cry.

"You have yourselves a little girl," the doctor announced, lifting up the small baby, red and screaming.

Her dark blue eyes were drifting closed, being put to sleep by the steady rising and falling of Jack's chest. Cindy glanced over at them and smiled, pulling off the rest of the red glass ornaments from the Christmas tree and putting them in their box. She pushed a strand of hair back in its low ponytail and piled everything into the big cardboard boxes, taping them shut over the noise of the television, which flickered images of Watchmaker's Kentucky Derby across the screen. It was late afternoon and just for kicks Cindy had slid the tape of her Kentucky Derby into the VCR instead of turning on the news and pondering what to cook for dinner.

"Okay," Cindy announced, standing up and shoving the last box to the side, looking around the house which was now devoid of Christmas spirit. "All I need now is for you to take these to the attic and I will be happy," Cindy said, walking up to the couch, looking down at Jack.

"Will do, captain," Jack smiled up at her, keeping one hand on the baby's back.

"Is she asleep?" Cindy asked, sitting down on the arm of the couch, looking down at Jack's sprawled form, and the small, compact shape of their daughter.

"Is now," Jack chuckled softly, and Cindy smiled, reaching down to run her fingertips over the small girl's feather soft light brown hair.

It had been four days since Cindy had returned home from the hospital, introducing Whitebrook's newest addition, Emily Fieldman, to the farm. It had been a picture taking spree lately, with Samantha bringing Grace over, camera in tow. Already Cindy had three rolls of film to develop, and there was another fresh roll in the camera. One thing Cindy was sure of when her daughter grew up was that she was going to have a complete history in pictures.

"I'll take her upstairs," Cindy volunteered, taking Emily into her arms, careful not to wake her. "Maybe she'll nap through the night."

"Right," Jack snorted. "It's your turn tonight, Cin."

Cindy wrinkled her nose, knowing she would probably get her wake up call from Emily sometime between one and three in the morning.

She walked into Emily's room, decorated in purple with the help of Samantha and Ashleigh. Cindy chuckled as she settled Emily in the crib, glancing up at the dark purple elephants dancing around the borders of the room. It had been hard to get her two mentors to agree on themes, and both had been adamant that there had to be a theme. Ashleigh wanted balloons, and Samantha wanted carousel horses. Cindy managed to negotiate with purple elephants.

Cindy paused, watching the sleeping face of her daughter, reaching down to touch the baby's soft hair again, then pulled back, giving the stars and moons of the mobile a small spin before she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

She walked slowly down the stairs, humming quietly to herself, hearing the soft background music to one of the specials NBC had done on the horses competing in the Derby. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, watching the television. Watchmaker was prancing across the track, his strong legs churning through the dirt to music from the Horse Whisperer, Cindy hovering over his back in the red light of the early morning, mist pouring out of the great colt's nostrils as he arched his neck, springing forward.

Cindy kept her eyes peeled on the screen as she watched the clips of the colt, all done professionally and beautifully, with Lucas talking in the background about the colt's races and his style. There was more of the red colt dancing across the track, kicking up dirt, shaking his blood red mane, Cindy keeping a tight hold on the reins as Watchmaker sidestepped over the dirt, his big brown eyes wide.

Slowly, Cindy walked up to the sofa, leaning against it as she watched herself then, seeing the set look of determination on her face as the camera panned over the colt's quivering body. She would be going back to the track in a month, Cindy remembered, set to ride Lucas' next Dearhart colt, Anticipation, in his first graded prep race.

Cindy watched the screen as it showed clips of Lucas and herself in the photo shoots, red roses and a billowing scarlet background behind them. She glanced down at Jack and saw him sleeping soundly, his nearly black hair in a spiky mess.

How things have changed, Cindy thought fondly, leaning down and giving him a soft kiss on the forehead before looking up, seeing herself on the television, looking into the camera, honey brown eyes crinkled from laughter, and smiling.


End file.
